Presently Doctor Grant stepped to the door and spoke to them. Jerry's hand led Jane toward him. They were like very little children stumbling to him for help. He seemed so steady and sure.
"We're going to put in the tube. Don't be alarmed. It isn't too painful, but I wanted you to know."
He turned back into the room. Jerry put his arms about Jane, but to his touch she felt like stone. She did not cling to him—she leaned on him, stiff and cold. It seemed ages that they stood so, punctuated by one scream of pain from Baby, then silence! Jane shuddered and Jerry's arms tightened. The night and the busy village below were blotted out. They two stood together in a chaos of pain.
Doctor Grant's touch dragged Jerry back.
"Bring her in now and let her look at him," he said.
"Is he dead?" Jerry whispered.
"No—he is asleep—it's all right."
Jerry watched the perspiration run down Doctor Grant's face unnoticed by him.
Then he gently loosed Jane, turned her, and led her in to the bedside.
Little Jerry, still flushed, but at peace, lay breathing gently. The nurse and the doctor smiled at them.