“I’m sure it’s too tight. I couldn’t walk.”
Lady Fanny consulted a small book on her lap, and began mournfully to unfasten a roller bandage.
“I suppose it is too tight, but I really don’t see why you should expect to walk about when you’re done up in strips. And that was my best figure of eight. However, of course if you insist upon such trifles—oh, what is it, Millie? You shouldn’t shriek!”
“Not with a pin running straight in? Oh!”
Lady Fanny began, with shaking fingers, to search for the offending instrument. Found, it was discovered to have punctured a hole from which a small drop of blood was oozing. The girls looked at each other. Fanny got up and walked to the window. From that refuge she remarked—“You’d better bathe it.”
“Aren’t you coming to assist?”
“You can manage that by yourself.”
Millie laughed.
“You won’t do for the hospitals yet, Fanny! There! A bit of sticking-plaster is on, and I am quite tidy. Suppose we give up the bandaging, and try something else?”
Lady Fanny came eagerly back.