“How is Judy?”
“Holding her own. And by the way, Janey, that friend of yours, Towne, sent another bunch of roses. Pretty fine, I call it. She’s no end pleased.”
“It’s nice of him.”
“Gee, I wish I had his money.”
“Money isn’t everything, Bobby.”
“It means a lot at a time like this.” His face wore a worried frown. Jane knew that Judy’s hospital expenses were appalling, and bills were piling up.
“I work like a nigger,” Bob said, ruefully, “and we’ve never been in debt before.”
“When Judy is well, things will seem brighter, Bob.” She laid her hand on his arm.
He looked up at her and there was fear in his eyes. “Jane, she must get well. I can’t face losing her.”
“We mustn’t think of that. And now come on out in the kitchen and I’ll make you some coffee.” Jane was always practical. She knew that, warmed and fed, he would see things differently.