Page:Bad Girl (1929).pdf/137

 The paper lay spread before him. Once Dot had kept newspapers off the bed because of the print rubbing against her immaculate spread. It didn't seem to matter so much any more.

"Don't you?" he asked. "I'll be glad when you get to a decision."

"Oh, I'm going to have it," she said, hastily, "but I just wanted you to know that I feel just as you feel. I don't want it either."

Eddie scowled but said nothing.

"You see," Dot plunged on, "it's like this, you have to use common sense. Edna talks too much, but she knows more than we do."

Eddie looked back at the newspaper. Dot could not see his face. She wished she could; maybe he was glad to know that she didn't want the kid either. Surely this ought to be a bond between them to renew their old companionship.

It seemed to be working. Eddie's hand reached out and found hers. He squeezed it tightly.

"Of course, I'll be kind to the kid," Dot added. "But, Eddie, I'll never care as much about it as I care for you."

Eddie turned a page noisily. "You'll be a damn funny mother if you don't care a hell of a sight more for it," he remarked.

"But I won't. I doubt that I'll care for it much at all."

"Aw, shut up," said Eddie, pulling his hand away. "What do you have to talk about the kid for anyway? It'll get here soon enough."

"Well, I gotta talk about it," said Dot, "because I need a doctor."

"Yeah, next July," said Eddie.

"No, now."

Eddie sat up on the bed. "What's the matter?" he asked.