“Seven days old. I said what I could to Mrs. Trench. A terrible affair. What can one do?”
“Poor little mite.”
“What was it, Mrs. Haye?”
“Gastric pneumonia, I think, nurse. I am sure that Brodwell muddled the case.”
“To think of it!”
“Of course, Mrs. Haye, gastric pneumonia with a seven days’ child is very grave.”
“Was it a boy or a little girl’m?”
“A girl. How is he to-day, nurse?”
“Oh, I’m all right.”
“I think we are getting on very nicely, aren’t we?”