The next I heard was a heavy fall. Miss Moran had knocked my big husband down.
I pushed open the door. Miss Moran, cool and collected, was pulling on her gloves. James was struggling to his feet.
"Oh, Mrs. Carson!" exclaimed the former. "Your husband fell over the stool. Wasn't it stupid of him!"
James, of course, got his divorce six months after I deserted him. He did not ask for the child, and I was allowed to keep it.
II
𝕀 WAS on my way to the waterfront, the baby in my arms. I was walking quickly, for my state of mind was such that I could have borne twice my burden and not have felt it. Just as I turned down a hill which led to the docks, someone touched my arm and I heard a voice say:
"Pardon me, lady; but you have dropped your baby's shoe!"
"Oh, yes!" I answered, taking the shoe mechanically from an outstretched hand, and pushing on.
I could hear the waves lapping against the pier when the voice again fell upon my ear.
