At the worst the skin will peel off." An unearthly silence brooded in the cabin, broken only by Bishop filling a basin from the water-bucket, and by Corliss seeking out his smallest and daintiest house-moccasins and his warmest socks.
Frona, rubbing her feet vigorously, paused and looked up.

"Don't let me chill the festivities just because I'm cold," she laughed.

"Please go on." Jake Cornell straightened up and cleared his throat inanely, and the Virgin looked over-dignified; but Blanche came over and took the towel out of Frona's hands.
"I wet my feet in the same place," she said, kneeling down and bringing a glow to the frosted feet.
"I suppose you can manage some sort of a fit with them.

Here!" Vance tossed over the house-moccasins and woollen wrappings, which the two women, with low laughs and confidential undertones, proceeded to utilize.
"But what in the world were you doing on trail, alone, at this time of night ?" Vance asked.

In his heart he was marvelling at the coolness and pluck with which she was carrying off the situation.
"I know beforehand that you will censure me," she replied, helping Blanche arrange the wet gear over the fire.