Philip lay where he could see into the other room.
"It is your blood, Philip," replied his wife, with a shudder.

"It dripped like a stream from your shoulder as we carried you in last night.

O Philip, it is dreadful! It seems to me like an awful nightmare.
Let us move away from this terrible place.

You will be killed if we stay here!" "There isn't much danger if the rest of 'em are as poor shots as this fellow," replied Philip.

"Now, little woman," he went on cheerfully, "don't worry.