"You will get over this dread of horses," I assured her. "Because there are murderers in the world you do not fear all men. Occasionally there are bad horses, just as there are bad people. You shouldn't judge all the splendid faithful creatures who spend their lives serving us, by one vicious brute."
"Oh, I know that!" she said. "And I'll try as hard as ever I can to get over it."
"This is quite a little woman … she has developed," I thought.
An unknown Blister with strange cavernous eyes, lay in the room to which we were presently taken. I stood at the foot of the bed, directly in his line of vision, but he did not seem to recognize me. He looked through and beyond me. At last—
"Hello, Four Eyes!" came feebly from him. Slowly he became conscious of the girl's face, looking down into his own. "You here, too?" he questioned.
"Yes, dear," she said tremblingly.
The sight of the poor sick face was too much for her and she knelt hastily to hide the tears. Then the round curve of her young bosom was indented by his wasted shoulder as she bent and kissed him on the mouth.
A woeful scar across his cheek reddened against the white skin. A flash of the old Blister appeared in the hollow eyes.
"There's class to that!" he said.