“You’ll have to pay for that, Renny,” he said, “sooner or later”—and, of course, I knew I should.
“Turn the creature on her face, you dolt!” he continued, “and let the water run out of her pipes.”
I endeavored to comply, but the girl, always keeping her eyes shut, resisted feebly. I dropped upon my knees and smoothed away the sodden tresses from her face. Thus revealed it seemed an oddly pretty one; the skin half transparent, like rice paper; the forehead rounding from the nose like a kitten’s. But she never opened her eyes, so that I could not see what was their color, though the lashes were black.
Presently a horror seized me that she was dead, and I shook her pretty roughly by the shoulder.
“Oh,” she cried, with a whimper, “don’t!”
I was so rejoiced at this evidence of life that I gave a whoop. Then I bent over her.
“It’s all right, girl,” I said; “you’re safe; I saved you.”
Her lips were moving again and I stopped to listen. “What did he want to drown me for?” she whispered.
She was thinking of my brother, not of me. For a flash her eyes opened, violet, like lightning, and glanced up at him standing above; then they closed again.
“Come,” I said, roughly; “if you can talk, you can get up.”