We were larking round the fountain, trying to push each other in, and I cut my hand on one of those rotten old pipes.

Beastly luck! But Fanning's done everything.

I shall be all right directly.

There's a little bone broken." "A bone broken!--your hand!" ejaculated Sorell, who sat down and looked at him in dismay.
"Yes--I wish it had been my foot! But it doesn't matter.

That kind of thing gets well quickly, doesn't it ?" He eyed his visitor anxiously.
"You see I never was really ill in my life." "Well, we can't run any risks about it," said Sorell decidedly.