After the first few mouthfuls Kirk ate wolfishly. The doctor munched a sandwich with the placidity of a summer boarder at a picnic. His calmness amazed and almost shocked Kirk.
“You can’t help her by killing yourself,” said the doctor philosophically. “I like that woman with the gimlet eyes. At least I don’t, but she’s got sense. Go on. You haven’t done yet. Another highball won’t hurt you.” He eyed Kirk with some sympathy. “It’s a bad time for you, of course.”
“For me? Good God!”
“You want to keep your nerve. Nothing awful is going to happen.”
“If only there was something I could do.”
“‘They also serve who only stand and wait,’” quoted the doctor sententiously. “There is something you can do.”
“What?”
“Light your pipe and take it easy.”
Kirk snorted.
“I mean it. In a very short while now you will be required to take the stage and embrace your son or daughter, as the case may be. You don’t want to appear looking as if you had been run over by an automobile after a night out. You want your appearance to give Mrs. Winfield as little of a shock as possible. Bear that in mind. Well, I must be going.”