"I know it, Kid, but Eddie will come. I know he will."
"He won't. He won't. Why should he?"
"Because he's wild about you."
"He couldn't be wild about anybody, Edna, he isn't that kind."
Dot's head fell to her arm, and she surrendered with a perverse delight to being as miserable as the situation called for. Floyd came from the kitchen to watch. He was interested but rather hoped that Eddie wouldn't come. If Dot got married she'd never be able to stay over night at his house any more. Floyd knew.
Dot's sobs continued. Edna smoothed the silky brown bob and murmured encouraging words, to no avail.
"Snap out of it, Kid," said Edna. "I'll have the neighbors in asking what's the matter if you don't shut up."
For answer Dot's weeping increased.
"You never do things by halves, do you?" Edna asked.
Dot raised a tragic face from her sleeve.
"No, I wish I did, and I wish I hadn't given in to him."
Edna envied Dot. She herself was past the age where there was compensation in dramatizing a bitter disappointment.
"Get this straight, Kid," she said, catching Dot's tearfilled eyes. "Whether you go through life with Eddie or without him, remember that you didn't give in to Eddie. You gave in to yourself."
"Yes, but he ought to come. I want him so."
"He'll come."
"Never—never—never."
The doorbell rang. Dot jumped and made a frantic daub at her eyes. "Probably a peddler," she said, but not very successfully. Floyd ran to the door, Edna followed more leisurely, and Dot stood in the doorway, looking down the long hall.
It was Eddie. Edna had been right. She wasn't, how-
