"What's this?" she asked.
"I don't know what you call it," he said carelessly.
She opened it. A tiny crocheted sacque lay within carefully wrapped in tissue paper. A large blue bow of very stiff, aggressive ribbon was at the neck of it. Dot smiled. The ribbon was so ridiculous. The sacque was so pleadingly tiny.
"Did you buy this?" she asked.
"Me? Can you picture me buying stuff like that?"
"No," said Dot, honestly. "But where—"
"Mrs. Williams sent it."
"Mrs. Williams! Did you tell them I'm going to have a baby?"
Eddie sat down at the table and reached for a piece of bread. "No, I didn't," he said. "I go down there to fix radio sets every day, not to gab. Besides, I'm not any more excited about this whole business than you are. I don't run up to people in the street and tell them about it. Mrs. Williams looked you over that day last week, and she hasn't got bad eyes."
Dot walked to the mirror in the bedroom. She stood before it for almost five minutes examining the proportions of her figure from every angle. She was convinced that Eddie was lying.
"I don't show," she said to him as she pulled out her chair and sat down.
"I'll bet every woman thinks that," said Eddie.
Her convictions melted away. Perhaps he was right. Maybe this was one of those things that other people knew and you didn't. The thought depressed her. She had so wanted to watch her body changing gradually to accommodate its little occupant.
"Do I look bad, Eddie?" she asked.
"No, you look great."
"I mean my figure."
