have stayed," she said. "There's no rules about visitors on any certain days. But you want to dodge him, don't you? You told me you were leaving here Tuesday."
"Yes, I am. On Tuesday."
"Gee, he gets a tough break," said Dot.
Mrs. Vernon lit a cigarette and stood close to the window so that she could drop it if Miss Parsons' step should be heard in the hall. Dot was not the sort of girl whom one imagines cigarette smoke might annoy, and the other woman was asleep.
Mrs. Vernon took swift, nervous puffs of the cigarette. "Remember what I told you about raising your son without interference?" she asked. "That's what I'm dodging; interference."
"Oh," said Dot, "that was your husband? Holy heavens, you can't keep dodging a husband."
Mrs. Vernon said nothing.
"You can't keep dodging a husband," Dot repeated.
"No," said Mrs. Vernon, "you can't keep dodging a husband."
Eddie returned. Dot's suspicions had been well based. He had a Motion Picture Magazine, a copy of Love Stories, and a Daily News.
"Almost time for the kid to be brought?" he asked.
"I guess so," said Dot.
"Did he eat today?"
Dot shook her head. It was safer that way. She couldn't trust herself to speak of the baby. She couldn't tell Eddie, anyhow, of the hour she had spent whispering pleas and promises into those tiny pink ears that might well have been the rose petals they resembled for all the good it did to implore.
"Gee," said Eddie, "what happens to them if they don't eat?"
"What do you think?" asked Dot, harshly.
