"Oh, I say! My poor girl!"
She laughed hysterically.
"It's my weight—I know I'm getting fat—"
"Keep still—let me clear these splinters away," he muttered between his teeth.
She continued to laugh and sob that it was her weight—she was getting fat—
He thrust downwards at the broken boards. The extrication was no easy matter, and her torn boot showed him how badly the foot and ankle within it must be abraded.
"Good God—good God!" he muttered over and over again.
"I shall be too heavy for anything soon," she sobbed and laughed.
But she refused to reascend and to examine her hurt.
"No, let me go quickly—let me go quickly," she repeated.