His hand was tied up in a bandige, and his whole
apearance was of one who wishes to be forgiven.
Why, oh, why, must women of my Sex do all the forgiving?
He stood in the doorway so I could see the bandige and would be sorry
for him. But I apeared not to notice him.
"Well?" he said.
I was silent.
"Now look here," he went on, "I'm darned lucky to be here and not dead,
young lady. And if you are going to make a fuss, I'm going away and join
the Ambulance in France."
"They'd better not let you drive a car if they care anything about it,"
I said, coldly.
"That's it! Go to it! Give me the Devil, of course. Why should you care
that I have a broken arm, or almost?"
"Well," I said, in a cutting manner, "broken bones mend themselves and
do not have to be taken to a Garage, where they charge by the hour and
loaf most of the time. May I ask, if not to much trouble to inform me,
whom you took out in my car last night? Because I'd like to send her
your pin. I'd go on wearing it, but it's to expencive."
"Oh, very well," he said. He then brought out my key ring, although
unable to take the keys off because of having but one hand. "If you're
as touchy as all that, and don't care for the real story, I'm through.
That's all."
I then began to feel remorceful. I am of a forgiving Nature naturaly and
could not forget that but yesterday he had been tender and loving, and
had let me drive almost half the time. I therfore said:
"If you can explain I will listen.
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