She put her hands on her hips. "And you still persist with your
fatuous idea that I'm going to have a baby?"
"Let us say," I evaded, "that we have adopted Dr. Sansome's treatment
on a wait-and-see basis. You said yourself that he refused to operate.
We have definitely confirmed that much. Your condition is still
inoperable, but you are coming along fine."
"Well, now, why didn't you tell me that before." She threw off her
coat and relieved the pressure of her waist zipper with a grateful
sigh. "Now you're making sense. Send out for another Spillane. I'll go
along with that. But no more of this drivel about transferring me to
the maternity ward, see?"
* * * * *
Ten nights later, she changed her mind. I passed her room after a late
emergency case. The door was open and I heard her crying softly to
herself. I stopped in. Her bed lamp was on, and for a change she
looked all woman.