Channing and Mrs. Melford followed him into Hensley's office, with Dr. Middleton at their heels. Mrs. Channing disappeared toward the back of the house, and Mrs. Melford pushed a chair forward for Rutledge to sit in. He sat, grateful to be off his feet. Someone came to the door to hand Dr. Middleton the shoe that Rutledge had lost by the wall. He glimpsed an unshaven face, and then it was gone. The doctor took the other chair from behind the desk and propped Rutledge's right leg across it. "These trousers won't be mended," he said, and searched in his bag for his scissors, cutting the cloth to peel it back from the wounds. There was a darkening bruise near his thigh, and the back of his leg was bloody, a long cut running down the calf. Middleton looked up as Mrs. Channing came in. She said to him, "There's water on to boil. Fortunately the fire hadn't gone out." She took in the damage to Rutledge's ankle, already turning red over the strengthening blue of a bruise, and said, "You were lucky, you know." "Stupid," he answered, "is more to the point." Middleton straightened, turning Rutledge's face toward him.
