"Flip lost the race because of me," Erna told Kaatje. "She was way ahead of Esmée but when I fell she turned around and came back to me."
"And Esmée went on?" Kaatje asked. "Well, it's a good thing you came back and got Erna's boot off, Philippa, or we'd have had an awful time. Her foot's swelling like anything. Hurt badly, Erna?"
Erna, her teeth clenched, nodded.
"Philippa, if we make a chair with our hands do you think we can ski down together with Erna? It will be quite a job not to jolt her, but I think we'd better get her down to Duvoisine as soon as possible. How about it?" Kaatje asked.
"O.K.," Flip said.
Jackie, trailing gallantly down at the tail of the race, stopped in dismay at the sight of Erna lying on the ground, and helped her up onto Flip's and Kaatje's hands. Then they started slowly down the mountain. This was the most difficult skiing Flip had ever done, because she did not have her arms to help her balance herself and she and Kaatje had to ski as though they were one, making their turns and swerves in complete unison in order not to jolt Erna who was trying bravely not to cry out in pain. Jackie had skied on ahead and Mlle. Duvoisine was waiting for them with the doctor, and Erna was borne off to the chalet to be administered to. Flip looked almost as limp and white as Erna as she went to join the other intermediates who were eating sandwiches while they waited for the senior events to be finished.
So now it was all over. She thought she had done well in Form, but she had lost both races. She felt too tired, and too depressed now that her part in the long-waited-for meet was over, to be elated simply because she had skied well.
Just as Kaatje van Leyden came swooping down to win the seniors' Long Race, Jackie said, "Here's Erna," and Mlle. Duvoisine was pushing Erna, sitting on one chair, her bandaged foot in a green ski sock with a large hole in the toe, on another, across the snow to them. They all clustered about her.
"How are you, Erna?"
"Is it broken?"