at once," he said. "He asked to be called if you showed any signs of action. I don't feel justified in handling your delivery in the face of his request."
"Oh," said Dot, "that's fine."
She left Dr. Simons, with his dubious smile, standing in the middle of his office looking after her. The nurse was humming a melody from the new Elizabeth Hines show.
Dot said nothing to Eddie until they were on the car; then she told him that Dr. Stewart was coming right back. In her voice was the peace and joy Robert Browning must have visioned when he wrote his famous poem of the world's tranquillity.
"Gee, that's great," said Eddie.
"Ain't it? Everything will be all right now. That Simons guy put a jinx on me. He made me feel rotten."
Eddie looked at her carefully. "How do you feel now?"
"All right. Tired, though. Gee, I'm glad Dr. Stewart is coming back."
She looked glad. For the first time in weeks there was a vividness about her, an air of having to face a job that would be unpleasant but inconsequential.
Eddie's spirits rose with each station that they passed on the Broadway express. At Dyckman Street, he bought half a banana cream pie in Hanscom's bakery, and Dot forgot her diet long enough to eat a slice of it.
She was cheerful, smiling, and brave through the following days. When Dr. Stewart's letter postmarked New York arrived, she felt almost as though the worst part of the confinement were over. The letter said that he was coming to see her on the following day.
Eddie had gone back to work. She had hated to part with him, but there was some consolation to be found in returning to a normal routine. She cleaned busily so that
