He went on with his study of her. She filled his mind. In the nursery she was a happy, twittering, foolish mother, adoring her baby. With him she was now a gay, bantering companion, now a dweller in Mars, with no apparent connection with the earth. With Christiansen she was a sexless challenge, calling to his mind with hers. Bobs transformed her into an affectionate big sister, interested in the doings of all the studio friends. He no sooner collected the data of one rôle, than she assumed another. Yet with all those ties, she kept an independent aloofness. Jerry felt that, any day, she might tie baby to her back and go forth, leaving them all, without a look behind. He decided that this was the secret of her fascination for them.
The more he thought about her, the more he wanted to know about those unaccountable mornings, what she did, where she spent her freedom. He decided to strike, in his position as assistant nurse, to see if that thwarted her sufficiently to bring a protest. He, therefore, announced that business would take him out of the studio in the early mornings for a week.
"Too bad to spoil your outings," he added.
"Oh, it won't. I'll arrange somehow."
"Those sacred mornings of yours cannot be interfered with, can they?"
"No."
"Why don't you invite me to walk with you some morning?"
"It's more important that you should look after baby."
"Thanks."
"After all, you've never shown any uncontrollable desire to walk with me. Before baby came you always walked alone."