Page:To-morrow Morning (1927).pdf/261

 But what was there to think? I'm going to have a baby; I'm glad I'm going to. I hope it's a boy. I hope it's going to act like Joe and look like me. What else? That couldn't have taken half a minute. Women in books had beautiful thoughts beginning, "Oh, my little baby—" But how to go on?

She yawned until tears stood in her eyes. Oh, what were her old friends doing now? Where were they making a noise? She longed for a noise, loud voices, screams of laughter, ice in a cocktail shaker

Had she ordered anything for dinner, or had she just made a list and left it beside the telephone? Had she the nerve to give poor Joe baked beans again? There were the blackberries she had bought from old Tom Davis because he was so old and had a long white beard and had come to the door like a gnome from a fairy tale—partly, too, because of the color of the small scarlet leaves stuck here and there to the wet blackberries as he poured them from his basket into her trembling scales. A silly reason for buying blackberries, when Joe said he would just as soon eat solidified ink.

Come on, Christina, I'll give you one more chance!

Well that's what it feels like! It must be nearly time for Joe to come home. I've been here enjoying nature for hours! She had forgotten to wind her