"Me!" said Margaret, drawing herself up. "I am quite well. Tell him I am perfectly well." But her complexion was as deadly white as her handkerchief; and her head ached intensely.
Mr. Hale now came in. He had left his sleeping wife; and wanted, as Margaret saw, to be amused and interested by something that she was to tell him. With sweet patience did she bear her pain, without a word of complaint; and rummaged up numberless small subjects for conversation--all except the riot, and that she never named once. It turned her sick to think of it.

'Me!' said Margaret, drawing herself up. 'Tell him I am perfectly well.' But her complexion was as white as her handkerchief; and her head ached intensely.
Mr. Hale now came in. He had left his sleeping wife; and wanted, as Margaret saw, to be amused. With sweet patience she bore her pain, without a word of complaint, and rummaged up numberless small subjects for conversation - all except the riot, for it turned her sick to think of it.
