"I won't know until I get your shirt up," she says, concentrating on doing it without causing further harm. Carefully, she rolls the linen up until it too sticks to the wound and she pauses to wet it before very gently lifting it off. Once the shirt is up and out of the way on his chest, she sees the gash and the dribble of blood flowing out now that there's no pressure to slow it. Quickly, she folds the cloth to a clean area and presses it to the wound.

"Oh, dear." Her voice is slightly higher pitched now and her eyes are wide. "Oh... heavens. Was that done with a knife? Don't fret. The doctor can sew it closed, I'm sure of it. He'll be here soon. Yes, surely he will be. Our butler will convince him and he'll come and you'll be fine, just fine." By now, Dean will probably be able to tell from the way Christine won't stop talking that she's nearing hysteria.