WHY DOES OLD MASTER WANT TO SEE ME?
He curled one of his legs up, his thighs made the water underneath the white foams rumble.
HAVE I DONE SOMETHING WRONG? I MEAN, DID MASON ALREADY MAKE ANOTHER MISTAKE?
He curled up the other leg. The same sequence of reaction on the water repeated.
DID THAT DUMB DOCTOR CALL HIM YET?
He pushed his frame back, brushing his back against the warm edge of the bath-pool.
I DON'T THINK HE WOULD DO THAT? HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO BRING HIMSELF TO IT. WHAT WOULD BE HIS BASIS OF ARGUMENT?
"Young Master."
A feminine but urgent voice knocked him out of the disturbing thoughts. It seemed as though his mind was eager to toss the thoughts aside too.
He looked to his side, from where the voice had come. One of the maids who were bathing him asked,
"Shall I?"
SHALL I? WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?
