"I tell you I can't stand 'em. They'll probe around and give a fellow gangrene."
"Then behave yourself." Norine forced the patient into a chair and withdrew his arm from the sling. Then, despite his weak resistance, she deftly removed the bandage. From his expression she felt sure that she must be hurting him, but when the injury was exposed she looked up in wonderment.
"Leslie!" she exclaimed. "What in the world—"
"Well! You insisted on seeing it," he grumbled. "I told you it wasn't much." He tried to meet her eyes, but failed.
There was a moment's pause, then Norine inquired, curiously: "What is the trouble? You'd better 'fess up."
Branch struggled with himself, he swallowed hard, then said: "I'm—going to. You can see now why I didn't go to a doctor: I did it—shot myself. You won't give me away?"
"Why—I don't understand."
"Oh, I'm in trouble. I simply had to get away, and this was all I could think of. I wanted to blow a real hole through myself and I tried three times. But I missed myself."
"Missed yourself? How? Why?"
Branch wiped the sweat from his face. "I flinched—shut my eyes and pulled the trigger."