"What are you going to do?" Janet demanded.
"Well," said Lise, "he's come across—I'll say that for him. Maybe it's because he's scared, but he's stuck on me, too. When you dropped in I was just going down town to get a pair of patent leathers, these are all wore out," she explained, twisting her foot, "they ain't fit for Boston. And I thought of lookin' at blouses—there's a sale on I was reading about in the paper. Say, it's great to be on easy street, to be able to stay in bed until you're good and ready to get up and go shopping, to gaze at the girls behind the counter and ask the price of things. I'm going to Walling's and give the salesladies the ha-ha—that's what I'm going to do."
"But—?" Janet found words inadequate.
Lise understood her.
"Oh, I'm due at the doctor's this afternoon."
"Where?"
"The doctor's. Don't you get me?—it's a private hospital." Lise gave a slight shudder at the word, but instantly recovered her sang-froid. "Howard fixed it up yesterday—and they say it ain't very bad if you take it early."
For a space Janet was too profoundly shocked to reply.
"Lise! That's a crime!" she cried.
"Crime, nothing!" retorted Lise, and immediately became indignant. "Say, I sometimes wonder how you could have lived all these years without catching on to a few things! What do you take me for! What'd I do with a baby?"