“Hallo!” said Ivor; and thought crossly: something’s very wrong with that maid, for she’s gone and left the door open now.... There was a short silence. Tarlyon, with his hands in his pockets, stared absently out of the window.
“Can one smoke here, I wonder?” he asked.
“I do,” said Ivor: taking out his cigarette-case....
“Rotten business, isn’t it?” Tarlyon said shortly. “Poor child.... Awful pain, I suppose?”
“Seen her at all?” Tarlyon turned frankly to him.
“Just once. She was feeling it a bit. Beastly to watch and feel quite well....”
“A doctor chap once told me,” Tarlyon said thoughtfully, “that women can bear pain much better than men. He said that there’s scarcely a man alive who would go through the pain of child-bearing twice, or even once, while look at women....”
They looked at women for a while, in silence; which was broken by a very faint cry from somewhere.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Ivor said vaguely. He wanted to close the door, but somehow didn’t. And he couldn’t help intently listening ... that cry again, almost a shriek, then a sob, and a jumble of faint, broken words....