remember him like he was the night I got back from that ride on the Burma. "
All this while Eddie had been holding his coat. Now he put it back on the chair reluctantly.
"Are you going, Edna?" asked Dot.
Edna smiled. "What! With that polite invitation you got? Not me. After all, you got some right there, and you wouldn't be let in, he says. Imagine me going up. I always did like the old man, though."
Once again Eddie grabbed his coat hopefully. "Let's go, Edna," he said.
"Thanks a lot, Eddie, but I don't think I will. You see, I haven't any real right there."
"You were a friend of the old man's," Eddie reminded her, as though this fact had been well known for some time.
"No, thanks, Eddie. I was kidding. I wouldn't really go. Jim and I had a difference of opinion."
Eddie shook his head at the utter vacancy of women.
Dot got up slowly and made for the bedroom. "You know, I don't feel very good," she said as she passed Eddie.
She lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets, that always lay in virginal, undisturbed pinkness at the foot of the bed, up over her shoulders. Eddie and Edna came in and stood near her looking sympathetic and puzzled.
"I feel as cold as ice," said Dot. "I've got to work to keep my teeth from chattering."
"Hm," said Edna.
"Think I ought to call the doctor?" asked Eddie.
Dot shook her head. Her hair, dark and wavy, made a fascinating design on the white austerity of the pillow.
"I'll get a hot-water bottle," said Edna. "She'll be all right soon. It is just the shock of that letter that upset her."
