"Of course, you poor dear, but how did you injure yourself?"
She laid the bandaged wrist gently on the palm of her hand and looked at it.
"Poor small accident," said Onoye.
"But why was it?"
The two girls looked at each other silently.
"Was it in the library that night?" asked Billie after a long pause.
Onoye's head drooped more and more.
"Poor little thing. Poor child," exclaimed Billie, consumed with pity and remorse, since it had been her own carelessness that had caused the poor small accident.
Onoye had doubtless put out the lights and when she, Billie, had crept into the room like a thief, the Japanese girl was frightened and hid herself behind a chair. Then when they had collided, they had both lost their heads and the pistol had gone off. In spite of her remorse, Billie was immensely relieved.
"Papa will be, too," she thought. "It had much better be Onoye than a robber."