at him behind his back. But Sansome was too great aman to ridicule. The general feeling was the same as mine. He wasolder than he thought, not in body, but in over-tired nerves andexhausted mind. None contested his skill with the scalpel; but nonegave ten cents worth of credence to his twist on the theory ofevolution.
As Sara's confinement proceeded with precise conformity to myexpectations, I thought Sansome would lose heart--but he didn't. Hearranged to be present in the delivery room with as much interest asif we expected a breach birth of a two-headed panda.
I was unfortunately called to Baltimore at the last minute. I flewboth ways, but my haste was in vain. Sara gave birth while I was stillaloft.
I checked in with more excitement than I'd thought possible. I askedat the desk, "How's Caffey?"
"Fine. Gave birth an hour ago. Beautiful little girl--"
I didn't wait for more. I dashed upstairs to the maternity ward, whereSara had finally consented to be moved, and slipped into her room.
She was tired, but conscious. She smiled at me peculiarly.
"So it's a girl!" I exclaimed. "Wait until I see Sansome. A beautiful,healthy, normal baby!"
A hand tapped me softly on the shoulder, and I turned to look intoSansome's triumphant eyes.
"Without a navel," he said.
--WINSTON MARKS
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