"The guard," said Miss Garscube.
"'Who kissed the place to make it well?'" he continued.
"You might have been killed," said Miss Adamson.
"That would not have been a pretty story to tell," he said. "I shall need to wait till I get home for the means of cure: 'my mother and I' will manage it. You're not of a pitiful nature, Miss Garscube."
"I keep my pity for a pitiful occasion," she said.
"If you had grazed your hand, I would have applied the prescribed cure."
"Well, but I'm very glad I have not grazed my hand,"
"So am I," he said.
"Let me see it," she said. He held it out. "Would something not need to be done for it?" she asked.
"Yes. Is it interesting—as interesting as the thorn?"