and what it brought to mind would never leave her. It would linger forever embalmed in all its terrifying serenity.
Reluctantly, the next day she started again for the office of Dr. Simons. Eddie had thought it best to accompany her again. For though she now knew exactly where the office was, he thought it advisable for her to have a companion on such a long trip.
Dot hated the people in the subway who looked at her. She was conscious of the shabbiness of her cape, which was of cheap material and had not stood the gaff. She was quite unable to feel glorified by her approaching motherhood, for across the way from her sat a woman with a tiny infant in her arms, and the woman wore a frock that had never been purchased for less than thirty dollars. Dot fell to wondering how the woman could have managed such an expensive dress so shortly after her confinement. The puzzle kept Dot occupied all the way to Columbus Circle.
Dr. Simons had not yet returned from his calls when they arrived at the office. Miss Henderson assured Dot that he was due any minute. There were other patients in the reception room today—a white-faced girl with a bad cough, a small, natty man with no obvious disorder, and a woman who was going to have a baby around October.
Dot sighed and took a seat. This probably meant that the trip to Inwood would be made during the subway's rush hour. She discarded her hat and cape and picked up a magazine. It was the Atlantic Monthly. She didn't remember ever having seen a copy of the Atlantic Monthly before. It looked like a very nice magazine, but Judge had funny pictures. Eddie found Judge for her, and she settled down to wait.
Presently the main door of the hall slammed loudly.
