"Take off your things," Lillian said.
Mary sighed. "I have to be getting back," she said. "I can't stay."
"Well, undo your collar. You'll catch cold."
Mary obeyed, sighing again. "Oh, I hardly care what becomes of me," she said.
"What's the matter? You and George have a fight?"
Mary smiled sadly as though Lillian had called to mind some sweet moments out of a dim past. "No," she said. "But what do you think? I'm going to have another baby."
"No kidding?"
"Yes, isn't it awful?"
Mary looked first at Lillian and then at Hubert to see if they were appreciating the full horror of her position. They looked politely sympathetic but not deeply impressed.
"I don't know what I'll do," she went on. "I can't possibly afford a confinement so soon again. The doctor and the sanitarium and extra things and all."
"Tough, all right," said Lillian.
"Not only that, but look," she pointed contemptuously at Bobby; "he's still a baby. It'll be great, taking care of two of them. And I'm not so strong. I get dizzy spells and I'm losing weight. Gee, it's awful."
"Sure is," said Lillian.
"Huh," said Hubert, "women years ago could have a dozen kids without making the fuss over it that you girls make over one or two. What do you expect when you get married?"
"Oh, go on, Hubert," Lillian said, "we're different
