"Why didn't you say you had sciatica?" asked Miss Farr,
belligerently.

It seemed unnecessary to answer.

"I know it is sciatica," she went on, "because I've seen it before.
And if you had no more sense than to bathe in that pool you deserve
all you've got."

"It looked all right." "Oh--looked! It's melted ice--simply."

"So I realized, afterwards."

"You seem to do most things afterwards. caused it in the first
place, cold?"

"The sciatica? No--an injury."

There was a slight pause.

"Was it--in the war?" The new note in her voice did not escape
Spence. He lied promptly--too promptly. Desire Farr was an observant
young person, quite capable of drawing conclusions.

"I'm not going to be sympathetic," she said. "That," with sudden
illumination, "is probably what you ran away from. But you'd better
be truthfull Was it a bullet?"

"Shrapnel."