Silence.
"What you thinking of, little lady, sitting there so pretty and all?"
"N-nothing."
"Nothing? Aw, surely something!"
A tear formed and zigzagged down her cheek. "Nothing, honest; only I—I feel right happy."
"That's just how you oughtta feel, little lady."
"In three months, if—Aw, ain't I the nut?"
"It'll be a big Christmas, won't it, little missy, for both of us? A big Christmas for both of us; you as sound and round as a peach again, and me shooting up like a skyrocket on the pay-roll."
A laugh bubbled to her lips before the tear was dry. "In three months I won't be a T.B., not even a little bit."
"'Sh-h-h! On the farm we wasn't allowed to say even that. We wasn't supposed to even know what them letters mean."