»That's the second time this morning – first mother and now this man taking advantage of my sensitiveness.« He could not trust himself to speak, and rang the bell for the servant girl.

»Clear away the breakfast things,« he ordered. »I can't have them messing about on the table till dinner!«

»Don't be hard on the girl,« coaxed Doctor Erb. »She's got twice the work to do to-day.«

At that Binzer's anger blazed out.

»I'll trouble you, Doctor, not to interfere between me and my servants!« And he felt a fool at the same moment for not saying »servant.«

Doctor Erb was not perturbed. He shook his head, thrust his hands into his pockets, and began balancing himself on toe and heel.

»You're jagged by the weather,« he said wryly, »nothing else. A great pity – this storm. You know climate has an immense effect upon birth. A fine day perks a woman – gives her heart for her business. Good weather is as necessary to a confinement as it is to a washing day. Not bad – that last remark of mine – for a professional fossil, eh?«

Andreas made no reply.

»Well, I'll be getting back to my patient. Why don't you take a walk, and clear your head? That's the idea for you.«

»No,« he answered, »I won't do that; it's too rough.«

He went back to his chair by the window. While the servant girl cleared away he pretended to read ... then his dreams! It seemed years since he had had the time to himself to dream like that – he never had a breathing space. Saddled with work all day, and couldn't shake it off in the evening like other men. Besides, Anna was interested – they talked of practically nothing else together. Excellent mother she'd make for a boy; she had a grip of things.

Church bells started ringing through the windy air, now sounding as though from very far away, then again as though all the churches in the town had been suddenly transplanted into their street. They stirred something in him, those bells, something vague and tender. Just about that time Anna would call him from the hall. »Andreas, come and have your coat brushed. I'm ready.« Then off they would go, she hanging on his arm, and looking up at him. She certainly was a little thing. He remembered once saying when they were engaged, »Just as high as my heart,« and she had jumped on to a stool and pulled his head down, laughing. A kid in those days, younger than her children in nature, brighter, more ›go‹ and ›spirit‹ in her. The way she'd run down the road to meet him after business! And the way she laughed when they were looking for a house. By Jove! that laugh of hers! At the memory he grinned, then grew suddenly grave. Marriage certainly changed a woman far more than it did a man. Talk about sobering down. She had lost all her go in two months! Well, once this boy business was over she'd get stronger. He began to plan a little trip for them. He'd take her away and they'd loaf about together somewhere. After all, dash it, they were young still.