I handed him the document, and tried to apply the goldbeater's skin, which curled and shrivelled, and would stick to nothing but my fingers—and still the hæmorrhage continued.
"It's all over your shirt now!" said the lion-tamer, as if I was doing it on purpose. "I wouldn't have had this happen for something. Why, I've known 'em get excited with the smell of blood, let alone the sight of it."
"Do you mean the lions?" I inquired, with a faint sick sensation.
"Well, it was the tiger my mind was running on more," was his gloomy reply.
My own mind began to run on the tiger too, and a most unpleasant form of mental exercise it was.
"After all," said Niono with an optimism that sounded a trifle forced, "there's no saying. He mayn't spot it. None of 'em mayn't."
"But what do you think yourself?" I could not help asking.
"I couldn't give an opinion till we get inside," he answered, "but we'll have the red hot irons handy in case he tries on any of his games. And if you can't stop that chin of yours," he added, taking a wrapper from his own neck and tossing it to me, "you'd better hide it in this—they'll only think you've got a sore throat or something. But do hurry up. I'm just going to see the old elephant put in the shafts, and then I'll come back for you, so don't dawdle."
Once more I was alone; I felt so chilly that I put on my old coat and waistcoat again, for I did not venture to touch my new suit until my chin left off bleeding, and it seemed inexhaustible, though the precious minutes were slipping by faster and faster.