The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked. . Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. He turned. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. He always followed by showering her with kisses, embracing her tightly as she squirmed and giggled. ‘Ah, trying to be the young hero, I take it, which is why he near got hisself killed.
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