At the sanitarium, Dr. Stewart led the way. An aged gray-haired individual with a sad, drooping mustache sat at the switchboard.
"This is Mrs. Collins," said Dr. Stewart. "She has a reservation."
"Oh, yes, we expected her sooner," said the old man. "Her name has been coming up every night for weeks."
Dr. Stewart walked over to Dot. "Go right on upstairs," he said. "The nurse is there."
Dot turned to the stairs and then stopped. This would be different from her bedroom at home. She and Eddie and Dr. Stewart were not going to loll about and exchange pleasantries. She fled back to Eddie and threw her arms around him.
"I guess I won't see you again," she said.
She had meant not till after the ordeal was over, but her words struck a chilling note. Eddie held her tightly and kissed her. Dr. Stewart thoughtfully examined the band on his hat.
Eddie watched Dot climb the stairs, holding tightly to the rail. A nurse had come down to meet her. He saw her disappear with the nurse around the bend on the landing. She was gone now. When he saw her again she would have been delivered of the baby, she would be past her crisis, or she would be—
"There's a little room back there," said the old man, "where you can sit down if you're going to wait."
"Thanks," said Eddie. For the first time he noticed that Dr. Stewart was not with him any more, and he remembered that the doctor had followed Dot. He walked to the little room designated and began his wait downstairs.
Dr. Stewart followed Dot and the nurse into the large room with its four beds. Only two of them were occupied, and the women were soundly sleeping.
"Which bed do you want?" whispered the nurse.
