"Perhaps you'll find out, some day," Billy suggested.
But Theodora frowned on him.
"Don't be silly. I'm not that kind, nor you either. I wish you could help me out on it. Don't people ever—"
"Collaborate? Yes. When are you going to read it to me?"
"Do you really want it?"
"Yes."
"Well, to-night, perhaps, if we can get away by ourselves."
However, fate willed otherwise.
"Theodora," the doctor said, as they were leaving the dinner-table, that day; "there's an errand I'd like you to do for me, about four o'clock. I promised to send some medicine down to a house in Water Street for a sick baby. Can you take it down? It's nothing catching," he added reassuringly to his wife.
"I'll go. Can I take Billy?"