I jerked my attention from the sausage to Myra. “I’ll take her inside,” I said, and picking her up I carried her into the lounge. When I had laid her on a couch, I yelled for Doc. “Come on,” I shouted. “Help me, will you?”
Ansell came in white and trembling. “I can’t believe it! It’s the most fantastic…”
“Aw, shut up!” I said roughly. “There’s plenty of time to talk when we’ve taken care of this kid. After all, we were in a damn tight spot before this happened. We should be grateful.”
It took some little time to bring Myra round. She opened her eyes at last and blinked unhappily up at me. “I’ve had such an awful dream,” he said sleepily. “Such an awful dream.”
“That’s all right,” I said soothingly. “You go to sleep. I’m right by your side, so there’s nothing to be soared about.”
She smiled at me and then closed her eyes again. In a moment she was breathing regularly.
“I’d be a hit as a father,” I said, pleased. “Did you see that piece of technique?”
Bogle came in. “How’s she doing?” he asked.
“She’s okay,” I said abruptly. “What have you done with the sausage? I want it in here.”
“I’ve given it to the innkeeper’s dawg,” Bogle said indifferently. “He’s a good dawg and I’ve been promising him something…”