His answer came in a flood of light, and showed him a young woman crouched
on the hall-rack a dozen feet from the switch. She was very white, and
there was a little stain of crimson on the white lace of her sleeve.
A voice from the landing above demanded quickly, "Who are you, sir?" and
after he had looked up', cried in surprise, "Mr. Yesler."
"Miss Balfour," he replied. "I'll explain later. I'm afraid the lady has
been hit by a bullet."
He was already beside his rescuer. She looked at him with a trace of a
tired smile and said:
"In my arm."
After which she fainted. He picked up the young woman, carried her to the
stairs, and mounted them.
"This way," said Virginia, leading him into a bedroom, the door of which
was open.
He observed with surprise that she, too, was dressed in evening clothes,
and rightly surmised that they had just come back from some social
function.
"Is it serious?" asked Virginia, when he had laid his burden on the bed.
She was already clipping with a pair of scissors the sleeve from round the
wound.
"It ought not to be," he said after he had examined it.
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