"The Bald One is outgrowing his title, Jane; he's getting quite a respectable wig."
"Yes—isn't it too bad."
"I don't know, Jane. Our æsthetic ideals are such that a bald child of eight or ten would not be considered beautiful."
"Do you think he looks well, Jerry?"
"Yes, fine. He's all right. Terrifying, the way the little wretch gets sick and well. Jane, my dear!" he added, for she went so white at his words.
"I can't get over it. If I think back to that night I almost die."
"Let's forget it, dear; it's over, and we're all here together. Perhaps a little more together than we ever were before," he said, with his first reference to the situation.
"You were wonderful, Jerry. I did not know how strong and tender you could be."
"Christiansen called me up, Jane."
"Yes."