"I'll scream," said Dot. "I'll wake everybody in the house." Dot's eyes were weird black and silver pools in the mystic light of the moon. She was stark insane in that moment. Miss Brown knew that Dot would murder her if she could. There was a maniacal strength in Dot's hands, an obsession in her brain. Miss Brown had had plenty. She was ready to resign from the sanitarium. She was ready to see Dot contract any internal disorder that might result from such folly. Quietly she got Dot's slippers and kimono and threw them to her. She stalked out of the room.
"Listen," said Mrs. Vernon, "let me go see your baby. I swear to tell you the truth about him. You mustn't go walking around."
Dot laughed. "I'm a little shaky, but I'm all right. They're going to let me sit up today anyhow."
She staggered weakly down the hall. She knew where the nursery was. She remembered from that long-ago day when she had come to reserve a room.
There was no sign of Miss Brown. Dot felt that she had been walking for eternities down a narrow, dimly-lit corridor with the angel of death beckoning her on. She remembered the day that the world had reeled and everything had gone black before her eyes. She must reach the nursery. She must see the baby.
The nursery at last! The chain that lit the lone bulb dangled against her forehead as she entered the darkness. She pulled it. Suppose the light did awaken the other babies? She was past caring for other people. Her baby was all that mattered in the world.
Quickly she looked around the room. It was a small room aired by a skylight. Two shelves were crowded with baskets wherein slept the babies. There were also two bassinets in the room. The baskets had little cards pasted on the front of them. Dot read the cards swiftly,
