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 "I want to see my baby."

"Well, you'll see him in a few hours. Not before."

Miss Brown started away and Dot grabbed her skirt.

"You don't know that my baby ain't dead, do you?"

"What?"

"I'll bet you haven't been near him in hours. Maybe he's dead."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Collins. He's all right. I'm glad every woman doesn't take on like you do. You ought to be made to have a special nurse."

"I don't act like this always. My baby's sick tonight."

"A little fever."

"Yes, a little fever." Dot's voice suddenly shot up to its normal pitch, and she sat bolt upright in bed. "A little fever, and you're too damn lazy to go take a look at him."

"Hush!"

"I'll not hush. I want to see my baby."

Miss Brown walked away.

"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Vernon. She, too, sat up in bed, and pushed the hair back from her eyes.

"My baby's sick and that big overgrown horse is too damn lazy to look at him."

Miss Brown materialized out of the darkness and came into the room.

"I looked at him," she said. "He feels much cooler and he's sleeping nicely."

"Bring him in here."

"I will not."

"Just carry him in and let me look at him. You don't have to leave him a second," Dot begged.

"Why don't you do that, Miss Brown?" asked Mrs. Vernon.

"Because it's against the rules," said Miss Brown. "Now both of you go to sleep."