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 meet his gaze, but he stood watching her as she walked to a chair and laid her dress upon it. Her little chemise just covered her nudity and it was with a note of desperation in her voice that Dot asked: "Must I take this off, too?"

"If you don't mind," said the doctor with mock deference; then added: "Less time would be wasted if women did at once what they were told to do."

Dot slipped her chemise down over her feet and the doctor slapped the center of the table meaningly.

Dot, frightened and confused, climbed upon it and lay down. He bent over and touched her breasts. Dot turned her face away from him and lay dumb and miserable while he pursued his examination.

At length he said: "Seems no doubt about it. You are certainly pregnant."

He went back to the head of the table again and bent over her. His face was very close to her now.

"Sure you're married?" he asked.

Dot nodded. There was a lump of anger and fright in her throat.

"I like to help little girls out," he said. "Little single girls."

His hands were adventurous and heavy. Dot stiffened beneath their touch.

"I'm married," she said, dully.

"Too bad," he said. "Fifty dollars is a lot of money."

Dot jumped to a sitting posture preparatory to getting down from the table. The doctor put an arm around her for assistance and captured a breast in one of his hands as he did so.

"This is a good time to be indiscreet," he suggested.

Dot reached for her chemise and dress, and the doctor instantly became professional.

"You want to attend to that soon," he said. "It's in its