She had another struggle then, and the tears started 153 in spite of all that she could do. But she conquered them.
“Much blood?”
“No. Little, only at first.”
“Thank you, Pete.” Then, turning to Hillyer: “I want you, Robert, please, to drive home, and tell Mrs. Huntington to make up a bundle of the things I shall need. Wait! A pencil and a bit of paper, please.”
For a moment he did not move to comply.
“What are you going to do, Marion?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly with the effort of speaking calmly.
“I’m going to nurse him,” she replied, meeting his look without flinching.
“But, Marion! I don’t––”
“Pencil and paper, Robert!” she said firmly.
He tore a leaf from a notebook, and gave it to her with his pencil.