With a motion of repugnance he moved his left hand from behind his back and stretched it to the light. The coat below the elbow was torn. The slender hand was crimson. He tried to smile.
"Luckily it wasn't at the back of my head."
"Sit down," Doctor Groom said, waving Robinson and Rawlins away. "Let me see how badly he's hurt. There'll be plenty of time for questions afterward."
Paredes lay back in one of the chairs and extended his arm. He kept his eyes closed while the doctor stooped, examining the wound. All at once his nearly perpetual sleeplessness since coming to the Cedars had recorded itself in his face. His nerves at last confessed their vulnerability as he fumbled for a cigarette with his good hand, as he placed it awkwardly between his lips.
"Would you mind giving me a light, Bobby?"
Bobby struck a match and held it to the cigarette.
"Thanks," Paredes said. "Are you nearly through, doctor? I daresay it's nothing."
Doctor Groom glanced up.
"Nothing serious with a little luck. It's only torn through a muscle. It might have pierced the large vein."
His forehead beneath the shaggy black hair was deeply lined. He turned to
Robinson doubtfully.