"Lordy me!" he observed aloud, "I sure didn't come any too soon!"
"Oh, it's all out! I don't know how I ever shall thank you in this
world! With Phenie in bed with a sprained ankle so she couldn't walk,
and the men all gone, I was just wild! I--why--" Kate, standing upon the
stairs so that she could look into the loft, stopped suddenly and stared
at Ford with some astonishment. Plainly, she had but then discovered
that he was a stranger--and it was quite as plain that she was taking
stock of his blackened eyes and other bruises, and that with the
sheltered woman's usual tendency to exaggerate the disfigurements.
"That's all right; I don't need any thanks." Ford, seeing no other way
of escape, approached her steadily, the empty bucket swinging in his
hand. "The fire's all out, so there's nothing more I can do here, I
guess."
"Oh, but you'll have to bring Josephine back!" Kate's eyes met his
straightforward glance reluctantly, and not without reason; for Ford had
dark, greenish purple areas in the region of his eyes, a skinned cheek,
and a swollen lip; his chin was scratched and there was a bruise on his
forehead where, on the night of his marriage, he had hit the floor
violently under the impact of two or three struggling male humans.
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