"The boy's quite right. If he's got to report he's got to report."
"And supposing she was dying?"
"Now, missis, we needn't suppose that. She isn't."
"It would be just the same if she was," Mrs. Clayhanger retorted bitterly. "I don't know what men are coming to. But I know this—all husbands are selfish. They probably don't know it, but they are."
"Don't you understand I'm in the machine now, mater?" said George resentfully as he left the room.
In the bedroom Lois lay on her back, pale, perspiring, moaning. He kissed her, glanced at the doctor for instructions, and departed. Lois was not in a condition to talk, and the doctor wished her not to speak. Then George went to the kitchen and took leave of the children, and incidentally of the servants. The nurse was arriving as he re-entered the dining-room; he had seized his cap in the hall and put it on.
"Better give me an address," said the Alderman.
"You might wire during the day," George said, scribbling on a loose leaf from his pocket-book, which he had to search for in unfamiliar pockets.
"The idea had occurred to me," the Alderman smiled.