The small figure moaned and moved its head. The lids
of her eyes were swollen and discolored.
"Snow-blind," echoed Bella.
"A bad case," said Hugh. "Get her some soup, Bella, and--perhaps,
hot water--I don't know." He looked up helplessly.
Bella went to the kitchen. She had regained her old look of dumbness.
Beside the figure on the floor Pete touched one of the girl's small
clenched hands. It was like ice. At the touch she moaned, and Hugh
ordered sharply: "Let her alone." So the boy dragged himself up again
and stood by the mantel, watching Hugh with puzzled and wondering
eyes.
"Think what she's been through," Hugh murmured, "that little delicate
thing, wandering for two days, out in this cold--scared by the woods,
blinded by the pain, starving. When I found her, you'd have thought
she'd be afraid of a wild man like me, but she just lifted up her
arms like a baby and dropped her head on my shoulder. She--she patted
my cheek--"
Bella brought the soup, and Hugh, raising the small black head on
the crook of his arm, forced a spoonful between the clenched teeth.
The girl swallowed and began again to whimper: "Oh, my eyes! My eyes!
They hurt me so!" She turned her face against Hugh's chest and clung
to him.
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