She seemed so anxious that at least its father should see his child, that the nurse led Edward into the next room. On a chest of drawers was lying something covered with a towel. This the nurse lifted, and Edward saw his child; it was naked and very small, hardly human, repulsive, yet very pitiful. The eyes were closed, the eyes that had never been opened. Edward looked at it for a minute.
“I promised I’d kiss it,” he whispered.
He bent down and touched with his lips the white forehead; the nurse drew the towel over the body, and they went back to Bertha.
“Is he sleeping?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you kiss him?”
“Yes.”
Bertha smiled. “Fancy your kissing baby before me.”
But Dr. Ramsay’s draught was taking its effect, and almost immediately Bertha fell into a pleasant sleep.
“Let’s take a turn in the garden,” said Dr. Ramsay. “I think I ought to be here when she wakes.”