"Do," she besought. "I'll be grateful forever."
He withdrew to make the attempt, and in his place came Billy with a tray of luncheon.
"Just—put it down," Arlee said faintly. "I'll eat—by and by."
Worriedly Billy looked down on the girl. Her eyes closed. Excitement had ebbed, leaving her like some spent castaway on the shores. He dropped on his knees beside her, dipping a clean handkerchief in the jar of cold cream.
"Just let me get this off," he said quietly. "You'll feel better."
Like a child she submitted, lying with closed eyes while with anxious care he took the sand from her delicate, burning skin. He did the same for her listless hands; he brushed back her hair and put water on her temples; he dabbed more cold cream tenderly on the pathetic little blisters on her lips.
"I'm—all right." The blue eyes looked suddenly up at him with a clear smile. "I'm—just resting."
"And now you'll eat a bit?"
Obediently she took the sandwich he made for her, and lifted her head to drink the cup of tea.
"I'm a—nuisance," she murmured.