“Who was her lover?”
“Do you not know?” Blanche Elsworth asked, trying to stop the flow of blood that came from his side.
“Who did she say it was?” he asked, trying to appear unconcerned.
“Please do not talk any more,” said Blanche
“Why not?”
“Because you are badly wounded, and I must go and find some one to help me take you to the house.”
“To whose house—not Bessie’s?”
“No, to mine.”
“Who are you? Allow me to ask.”
“Never mind who I am. I shall try to help you; so be quiet.”