At this point, Charlotte thought here was her chance to redeem her image.
She can do alittle artificial respiration.
So, Charlotte trotted to the man. “I’ll do it, I’ll give him artificial respiration.”

She glanced at the man lying on the ground, slightly fat and ordinary looking. His lips were white because of choking.

Charlotte tried to hide the disgust in her eyes, pinched the man’s nose with two fingers, leaned over and began to do artificial respiration.

Repeated chest compressions and artificial respiration, then repeated chest compressions and artificie respiration.

She tried her best to recall the first aid knowledge she had been taught in school and struggled to do it.
After pressing for a while, the man on the ground did not spit out the water in his chest.

Charlotte was sweating profusely.

She glanced at Luther every now and then, being afraid he would see the signs.

It should be correct. This was how to administer help. Why did it not work?

ith cursed in her heart, her hands

to give help and do artificial respiration. Thinking to himself, Charlotte did know first aid. That night she also gave him artificial respiration. Maybe she refused

seeing the result, she

pick up Joyce, or else his eyes

spits

slicked with sweat, and no

same time, the

a group of professional

drowning man on a stretcher, put him in the ambulance where there were oxygen tanks. A paramedic handed Joyce and Luther a few large bath

hair, and wiped

blew

was fine. Only his

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