A son!
A hot knife went straight through Nathan’s heart and into his soul.
“Come back about six o’clock,” the nurse advised him, though Nathan scarcely heard. “You’ll find your wife in Room Eighty-eight.”
A few minutes later Nathan left the hospital. He sped blindly for a florist’s to buy flowers, flowers—millions of flowers. He was boyishly obsessed to buy flowers.
Madelaine was dozing when Nathan entered her room at six o’clock. She turned her head toward him, lifting eyes that were still hollow and slightly glazed with suffering. But when she recognized him, a coy smile showed about her delicate mouth.
“Well, Mr. Man?” she demanded. “And now what have you to say? We—have—a—son!”
Nathan, down beside the bed, buried his face in her soft mother-throat.
“If there was only something big I could do to show how much I love you, dear,” he cried thickly, “—oh, God, if I only knew what to do——”
“Do? I thought we settled that—the night on the steam-ship—coming back from Japan? A similar ‘do’ will be quite sufficient for the present also.”
She held up her lips. He did.