...
"Good God!" Dundee breathed, and Strawn nodded his understanding of the
younger man's horror.
For the left half of Lydia Carr's face was drawn and puckered and ridged
almost out of human semblance. Even the eye was ruined--a milky ball
which the puckered, hairless eyelid could never cover again.
"Poor Lydia is ashamed of her scarred face," Lois Dunlap explained, her
arm still about the maid's shoulder. "She isn't quite used to it yet,
but none of _us_ mind--"
"You were burned recently, Lydia?" Dundee asked pityingly.
"That's my business!" the woman astounded him by retorting harshly.
"How did it happen, Lydia?" Dundee persisted, puzzled.
"I had an accident. It was my own fault."
Lois Dunlap's kind grey eyes caught and held Dundee's firmly. "I think,
if Nita could speak to you now, Mr. Dundee, that she would beg you not
to try to force Lydia's confidence on this subject. Nita was devoted to
Lydia--we can all testify to that!--and one of the sweetest things about
her was her constant effort to protect Lydia from questions and curious
glances. I, for one, know that Nita often begged Lydia to submit to a
skin-grafting operation, regardless of expense--"
When that kind voice choked on tears, Dundee abruptly abandoned his
intention to press the matter further.
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