"I don't want to have a baby," said Dot. "What do you do in a case like that?"
"You have it anyway," said Edna. "And when you see it you're ready to kill the person who says you didn't want it."
Edna got up and removed her hat and coat. There was in her air the manner of one who sees that she is needed.
"Lots of women don't have them," said Dot.
"Slackers," Edna returned. "Dames who'd shoot their fingers off to evade going to war if they were men." Edna reseated herself on the couch and waited for Dot to speak.
Dot said nothing. She was not anxious to debate the pro and con of birth control. She perceived instantly that the kind of help that she wanted would not be forthcoming from this quarter, and she was ready to let the matter drop.
"How do you feel?" Edna asked after a time.
"Fair. I'm worried, of course."
"What are you worried about? Why don't you want to have a baby?"
Eddie looked up from his intensely interesting article. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but the impression passed, and he returned to his reading.
"Well," said Dot, "for one thing—"
For one thing what? She looked pleadingly up into Edna's waiting eyes. What were some of the reasons for abortion? You simply couldn't say, "Eddie doesn't want a baby." Edna would probably hate him if she knew that. To say that she herself didn't want one was absurd. Edna would make short work of that objection.
"We'd like a little more money before we have one," said Dot timidly.
She cast a frightened glance at Eddie. Would he be angry at this attack on his earning capacity? If so, Edna's reply must surely have restored his good humor.
