“Why, Burr,” he said, “I didn’t know that you could fight like that.”
“No,” I said, “and I did not know either.”
Then we hurried in and ran up to our room, where I was glad to get soap and towel to my bruised face.
“Oh, you are lucky, Tom!” I panted, as I hurriedly bent over the basin, fully expecting to be reported for coming up to the dormitory out of hours. “Why, you don’t show a bit.”
“Nor you neither,” he replied.
“Oh!” I gasped, as I looked in the glass.
“Well, not so very much,” he said.
“But—but I don’t hardly know myself,” I said despondently. “What a face!”
“Well, it does look rather like a muffin,” he cried.
“Ah, you may laugh,” I said. “My eyes are just like they were when I was stung by a bee, and my lip’s cut inside, and this tooth is loose, and—Oh dear, it’s all growing worse!”