He wished he had known what he knew now, so that he could have helped
her more, have thought of the groats for her.

"Nurse," he asked, "do you think she can ever get quite well?"

"Of course she will. Rest and good food will be all she wants."

"Nurse, can I go and say good night to her?"

"Don't make her cry again, Mr. Kerr, and you may come in at eight."

As she went out with the cup of steaming food, she looked back to ask:

"Did you see the baby?"

"Don't mention the damned baby!" said Osborn with deep anger.

"The baby can't help it," answered the nurse, going out.

Osborn sat there thinking. No! The baby couldn't help it. That was
very true. Losing his hostility to this fragment of life, he began to
feel a faint curiosity. What was it like?

At eight o'clock he would look at the baby.

The nurse looked out of the bedroom door just before eight and
signalled to him. This time she did not leave them alone, though she
busied herself at the other side of the room, with her back to them,
because she knew how shy these young things were. And this time Marie
looked at Osborn with the ghost of a smile, barely more than a tremor