“Do you need me to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?” He dropped on his knees by the man’s side and made a hurried examination. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. "What's the matter?" he cried. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. I don’t know that I understand altogether.
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