“Is it all right?” she said.
“Yes . . . it’s a boy. A beautiful boy.”
“Hallo, Eth,” said a quiet voice from the bed. “Go and tell Jim.”
It was the first word the patient had spoken.
A moment later she opened her eyes and stared in a dazed way at Edwin. She smiled. She was a woman again—an extraordinarily chastened woman—and somehow strangely beautiful. “Thank you, doctor,” she said. “You ’elped me ever so. Did I be’ave very bad, Mrs. Perkins?”
“Bad? You be’aved fine,” said Mrs. Perkins, wrapping the baby in a blanket and putting it in the fender.
The patient gave a deep sigh and seemed to relapse into her thoughts. From time to time she would say a couple of words in a weak-contented voice.
“’As Eth told Jim?” she asked several times, and then: “What’ll mother think?”
“You be quiet, my lover,” said the midwife. “Don’t you disturb yourself with talking.”
At last she said suddenly: “I’m better now,” and asked if she might see the baby. Mrs. Perkins unwrapped the blanket from a red and frowning forehead and showed it to her. She touched its cheek with her finger and smiled miraculously. The action seemed to bring her submerged personality to the surface again.