“Shall we go back home at once? I will ride for Marjoy.”
“Nonsense. Take the hook out here.”
“I?”
“Yes.”
“I shall hurt you.”
“Nonsense. Cut the sleeve.”
He began at the wrist and slit the silk wellnigh to the shoulder with his knife. The green folds fell away, baring the full, round arm white and glimmering in the sunlight. A thin blood track rubied the skin below the shoulder where the fly dipped its wings in the crimson stream. Gabriel’s fingers quivered against the girl’s wrist. They looked into each other’s eyes—a sudden, deep, and questioning look.
“Well?”
“Am I to take the thing out?”
A smile wandered over her lips. The man’s hands still touched her wrist.