"Well?" she said, stopping perforce and looking up in surprise.
"What is it?"
"Your arm—you are burned, badly burned."
Gerald made a little sound of contempt for all reply.
"It should be dressed at once. How it must pain you!"
Gerald looked at her arm reflectively. "I haven't had time to feel," she said, vainly trying to pull her sleeve over it. "It will make an ugly scar, won't it? I shall have to abandon elbow sleeves. Now please let go the brush."
"Miss Vernor, why should you be so cruel to yourself? Do go up to the doctor at once!"
"And take him away from Phebe? I will not. It won't hurt any more now than it has done already. I must ask you to let me have the brush, Mr. Halloway. I am losing time."
Halloway relinquished it without speaking, and went quietly out of the room, and Gerald unconcernedly resumed her work, scarcely pausing to wonder where he had gone or what he intended. He returned just as she had finished, and lifting the lamp back to the table, called to her: "Will you come here, please?"
"What in the world have you there?" she inquired, coming up to him in sheer curiosity.
"Soap. I found the way to the kitchen, you see. I had to bring the water in this tin thing. I didn't know where to look for a cup."