From the far corner rose the woman whom the doctor had left to watch her. “She’s just gone, doctor,� she said laconically, without emotion.
Dr. Cheyney shot a look at her from under his eyebrows, and went over to look at Jean. The light from the poor little lamp fell full on her thin small-featured face and showed it calm; she was as pretty as a child and quite happy looking.
“Thank God!� said the doctor, “that’s over. Where’s Zeb?�
“Up-stairs, drunk,� said the woman; “if it warn’t raining so hard I’d go.�
The doctor looked over his spectacles. “Then you’ll take the child along,� he said gravely.
“That I won’t!� said she, “I’ve children of my own. I won’t have none such as him.�
“Oh, you won’t?� exclaimed the old man.
“I thought you’d take him,� said she, reddening.
“There are two women folks up at the house,� said the doctor dryly; “being a nameless child—out he goes!�
“Well, I don’t care,� said the nurse fiercely, “I feel so myself; there’s the foundling asylum.�