"It's somebody else," Jenny said faintly.
Mary stirred, turned to her in the dimness.
"Why, Jenny!" she said.
"Soon," said Jenny.
The two women stood for a moment, Jenny saying a little, Mary quiet.
"It'll be late in December," Jenny finished. "That seems so wonderful to me—so wonderful. Late in December, like—"
The cold came pricking about them, and Jenny moved to go. Mary, the shawled figure on the upper step, looked down on the shawled figure below her, and abruptly spoke.
"It's funny," Mary said, "that you should tell me that—now. I haven't told you what's in my letter."
"What was?" asked Jenny.
Mary told her. "They want I should have the little boy," she ended it.