"Some cut, to bleed this profusely," said Tristan, somewhat relieved to see that the bleeding slowed down, though it still didn't stop. He reached his free hand into his pocket to check his pocket watch. Seven minutes since the boy had come to his door. Took them four to get here. He turned to the lady. "More cloths, ma'm. And if the other gentleman could move the table closer so your husband can rest his hand, then I'll think I'll stitch it. Do you usually bleed this much when you cut yourself, sir?"