In that case you'd better leave it as it is.
The door is opened and SELMA KNOBBE pushes in a wretched perambulator which presents the saddest contrast to MRS. JOHN'S. Swaddled in pitiful rags a newly born child lies therein.
MRS. JOHN
Oh, no, Selma, comin' into my room with that there sick child—that was all right before. But that can't be done no more.
SELMA
He just gasps with that cough o' his'n. Over at our place they smokes all the time.
MRS. JOHN
I told you, Selma, that you could come from time to time and get milk or bread. But while my little Adelbert is here an' c'n catch maybe consumption or somethin', you just leave that poor little thing at home with his fine mother.
SELMA
[Tearfully.] Mother ain't been home at all yesterday or to-day. I can't get no sleep with this child. He just moans all night. I gotta get some sleep sometime! I'll jump outa the window first thing or I'll let the baby lie in the middle o' the street an' run away so no policeman can't never find me!