He saw but little of her during the next forty-eight hours.

She seemed to avoid him.

At any other time and in other circumstances he undoubtedly would have resented her indifference,--a very common and natural masculine failing,--but in these strenuous hours he was too fully occupied with the affairs of life and death.

Once she stopped him to inquire if Miss Clinton was still able to dress his wounds.
"Once a day," he replied.

"She's even pluckier than you are, Madame Obosky." Her eyes narrowed.