His telephone rang. And Jane spoke to him.
“Mr. Towne,” she said, “I can’t dine with you. But can you come over later? Judy is desperately ill. I’ll tell you more about it when I see you.”
CHAPTER XIX
SURRENDER
Bob had cried when the news came from the hospital. It had been dreadful. Jane had never seen a man cry. They had been hard sobs, with broken apologies between. “I’m a fool to act like this....”
Jane had tried to say things, then had sat silent and uncomfortable while Bob fought for self-control.
Miss Martin had gone home before the message arrived. Bob was told that he could not see his wife. But the surgeon would be glad to talk to him, at eight.
“And I know what he’ll say,” Bob had said to Jane drearily, “that if I can get that specialist up from Hot Springs, he may be able to diagnose the trouble. But how am I going to get the money, Janey? It will cost a thousand dollars to rush him here and pay his fee. And my income has practically stopped. With all these labor troubles—there’s no building. And Judy’s nurses cost twelve dollars a day—and her room five. Oh, poor people haven’t any right to be sick, Janey. There isn’t any place for them.”
Jane’s face was pale and looked pinched. “There’s the check Baldy sent me for Christmas, fifty dollars.”