"I will soon remedy that. Your foot?"
"It seems much better, but I—"
The girl hesitated, blushing. "I can't get my shoe on and—"
"Shall I have another look at it?"
"No, I don't believe it will be necessary. If I may have some of that liniment, or whatever it was you put on it, and more of that bandage, I think I can attend to it myself, but you see my stocking and my boot—"
The man nodded, he seemed to understand; he went to his cracker box chiffonier and drew from it a long coarse woolen stocking.
"That is the best that I can do for you," he said, extending it toward her somewhat diffidently.
"And that will do very nicely," said the girl. "It will cover the bandage and that is the main thing."
The man laid on the table by the side of the stocking another strip of bandage torn from the same sheet; as he did so he noticed the picture. He caught it up quickly, a dark flush spreading over his face, and holding it in his hand he turned abruptly away.
"I will go and cook you some breakfast while you get yourself ready. If you have not washed, you'll find a bucket of water and a basin and towel outside the door."