"Sometimes, Mary, I feel as if all the women in the world, who can't get out somehow, were behind me, pushing me on."
Mary reached both hands to Jean's shoulders. "They are, Jeany—I believe they are."
"And sometimes, Mary, I wish to Heaven they'd let me alone."
With a laugh, Dr. Mary sank back into her chair.
"Well, they won't. Now, tell me all about it. It's got the T.B.'s beaten a mile."
"Not to-night. This is one of their pushing days, and I feel as if they had me just about over the edge. I'm all in, and anyhow, it's pretty vague yet."
So they smoked and talked of other things, but not again of Gregory nor why he had gone without a word.
It was close on twelve when Jean let herself into the apartment, and saw the light go suddenly out under Martha's door at the end of the hall. Jean tiptoed to the door and opened it.
"Mummy, I saw you do it this time."
"Well, dear, if I can't sleep, I didn't know that I was not allowed to read."