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 It was only by Miss Parsons' voice calling to her that Dot knew that the night was over. She was going home today. She and her baby were going home. It seemed wrong that everything in the ward was the same and that she should eat her breakfast with slow indifference. There should be bustle and rush, excitement. Heavens, she and her baby were going home!

She found her clothes in the closet, the clothes she had worn to the sanitarium, the dress which had enough material in it to make her two dresses now, the cape which she would have to wear to conceal the dress. She had wanted Eddie to bring some other things to her, but he would not know which dress she wanted, no matter how carefully she explained. After all, it didn't matter. There wouldn't be many people to see her. Eddie had seemed less dense on the subject of baby clothes. He had understood that he must bring a dress, two petticoats, a shirtie, a diaper, a bonnet, a sacque, a bellyband, a pair of bootees, two blankets, and stockings. Funny, how bewildered and frightened he would have looked had she asked him to get her pink dress off the hook and bring it along.

Dot got into her clothes. She made up her face very carefully. She wanted to look nice despite the terrible dress which hung so disgracefully upon her.

Miss Parsons came into the ward. She looked at Dot and laughed. "Hurry up," she said. "Get your hat. You're going home at five o'clock, and it's a quarter of ten already."

"Never mind. Don't razz me," said Dot. "Wait till some day you're in a hurry to get home."

Dot picked up a magazine and tried to read, but she couldn't get interested in the stories. A baby cried in the nursery. She went to see if it was young Edward, and it was. Gleefully, Dot lifted him from the bassinet and