Jane endured three nervous days at the hospital before she was ill. Jerry was in and out all day, and Bobs and Jinny Chatfield spent much of the time with her. She was grateful to them, but secretly she wished they would not fuss over her. She had wanted to crawl away into this quiet place, to get this ordeal over by herself.
She was interested in the hospital régime, which was entirely new to her. She liked the smooth efficiency of it. Quiet nurses coming and going, doctors padding silently up and down the halls. She had an agreeable nurse, who answered her questions intelligently. She developed an interest in the cases about her.
Her room looked off over the Hudson, and she spent hours watching the boats. She learned the hours of the Albany boat, and often she laughed at the tugs, they were so like pompous little men. She spoke to Bobs about it one day.
"The river has just as individual a life as Broadway, and the boats are so like people."
Bobs smiled at the idea.
"I'm glad you've got something to amuse you. You must be nearly wild with this waiting."
"Oh, no. I have lots to mull over in my mind. I visited my neighbour yesterday, and saw her new baby. Bobs, women don't realize yet what Twilight Sleep is bringing to them. It is one of the biggest discoveries of our age."
"How, Jane?"
"Don't you see what wide-reaching results it may have for us? If we are relieved of the nervous shock and agony of birth, if the dread of this ordeal is lessened, that alone is important. But it will mean everything to the woman with a job, or the mother with other small children dependent upon her care."
"You mean her escape from the shock and pain?"