ver saw. Knew his old man right off."

He was beside her suddenly, standing straight and still in shadows.

"Oh, darling," she whispered. "Why did you wait? It's been three whole
days."

"Three days?" he asked, leaning forward to stare down at his son.
"Really! It didn't seem that long."

"Where were you? You didn't even phone!"

"Sometimes it's difficult to phone," he said slowly, as if measuring his
words. "You have given me a son. That pleases me very much."

A coldness touched her heart and a despair took hold of her. "It pleases
you! Is that all you can say? You stand there looking at me as if I were
a--a patient ..."

"A patient?" His expression grew quizzical. "Just what do you mean,
Sally?"

"You said you were pleased. If a patient is ill her doctor hopes that
she will get well. He is pleased when she does. If a woman has a baby a
doctor will say, 'I'm so pleased. The baby is doing fine. You don't have
to worry about him. I've put him on the scales and he's a bouncing,
healthy boy.'"

"Medicine is a sane and wise profession," Sally's husband said. "When I
look at my son that is exactly what I would say to the mother of my son.
He is healthy and strong. You have pleased me, Sally."

He bent as he spoke and picked Sally's son up. He held the infant in the
crook of his arm, smiling down at it.

"A healthy male child," he said. "His hair will come in thick and black.
Soon he will speak, will know that I am his father."

He ran his palm over the baby's smooth head, opened its mouth gently
with his forefinger and looked inside.

Sally rose on one elbow, her tormented eyes searching his face.

"He's your child, your son!" she sobbed. "A woman has a child and her
husband comes and puts his arms around her. He holds her close. If they
love each other they are so happy, so very happy, they break down and
cry."

"I am too pleased to do anything so fantastic, Sally," he said. "When a
child is born no tears should be shed by its parents. I have examined
the child and I am pleased with it. Does not that content you?"

"No, it doesn't!" Sally almost shrieked. "Why do you stare at your own
son as if you'd never seen a baby before? He isn't a mechanical toy.
He's our own darling, adorable little baby. _Our child!_ How can you be
so _inhumanly_ calm?"

He frowned, put the baby down.

"There is a time for love-making and a time for parenthood," he said.
"Parenthood is a serious responsibility. That is where