"..." Charlotte Smith was silent for a while, then somewhat humbly said to Daisy Ginger, "Miss Ginger, if you hate me, wait until you're feeling better and you can hit me, but please don't harm yourself."
Daisy Ginger was amused by her again.
She opened her eyes and looked at her, "Do you really think I don't dare lay a hand on you anymore?"
Charlotte lowered her eyes, still with that gentle demeanor, speaking softly: "As long as it helps you to calm down."
Daisy Ginger stared at her, clenched her hands, her wound tight, sending a sharp pain through.
Her face turned pale, which Charlotte noticed, instinctively lifting her blanket, grabbing her wrist, and urgently said: "Miss Ginger, I was wrong, the wound just got stitched up, don't strain, it'll tear the stitches!"
Touched by her, Daisy felt half-dead with disgust, swatted her away, and shouted at her, unable to bear it any longer: "Get out! Don't pretend to care for me! Are you out of your mind?"
