What's this?" asked Joe, taking the hand tenderly and pulling at
some white strands beneath the bandages.
"It's something soft," said Delia, "that had oil on it. Oh, Joe, did
you sell another sketch?" She had seen the money on the table.
"Did I?" said Joe; "just ask the man from Peoria. He got his depot
to-day, and he isn't sure but he thinks he wants another parkscape
and a view on the Hudson. What time this afternoon did you burn your
hand, Dele?