"Shall I rub you?" he asked with some trepidation
"If you like," moaned the poor girl. Her suffering was so great, and as pain does not know bashfulness, she allowed him to slip his hand under the sheet and directed it to the aching spot. He at first rubbed with the tip of one finger, but he only managed to tickle her and make her jump, so that he found himself going into all kinds of crooked ways and hollow places. Little by little the hand was flattened and he rubbed with the palm of his whole hand.
Soon the spasmodic breathing ceased, relief was effected, but the cure was not quite complete.
As he rubbed, the circle of his operations increased, and the friction soon made the blood rush from his hand to his heart and then to his head; he felt it whirring in his ears, squirting in his eyes, he could hardly see, he almost felt tipsy. Soon, almost without wanting it, his hand, instead of a circle, made an ellipse, and he felt—with the tips of his fingers—a soft down like the first fluff of a
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