* * * * * "It was Leo," Moira incoherently told Len at home. "You know she's English--she said of course a cup of tea wouldn't hurt me, and she insisted I go ahead and drink it while it was hot, and I couldn't--" "No, no--wait," said Len in a controlled fury. "What--" "So I _drank_ some. And Leo kicked up and made me burp the burp I was saving. And--" "Oh, Lord!" "--then he kicked the teacup out of my hand into her lap, and I wish I was _dead_!" [Illustration] On the following day, Len took Moira to the doctor's office, where they read dog-eared copies of _The Rotarian_ and _Field and Stream_ for an hour. Dr. Berry was a round little man with soulful eyes and a twenty-four-hour bedside manner. On the walls of his office, where it is customary for doctors to hang all sorts of diplomas and certificates of membership, Berry had only three. The rest of the space was filled with enlarged colored photographs of beautiful, beautiful children. When Len followed Moira determinedly into the consulting room, Berry looked mildly shocked for a moment, then apparently decided to carry on as if nothing outre had happened. You could not say that he spoke, or even whispered; he rustled. "Now, Mrs. Connington, we're looking just fine today. How have we been feeling?" "Just fine. My husband thinks I'm insane." "That's g--Well, that's a funny thing for him to think, isn't it?" Berry glanced at the wall midway between himself and Len, then shuffled some file cards rather nervously. "Now. Have we had any soreness in our stomach?" [Illustration] "Yes. He's been kicking me black and blue." Berry misinterpreted Moira's brooding glance at Len, and his eyebrows twitched involuntarily. "The baby," said Len. "The _baby_ kicks her." Berry coughed. "Any headaches? Dizziness? Vomiting? Swelling in our legs or ankles?" "No." "All rightie. Now let's just find out how much we've gained, and then we'll get up on the examination table." Berry drew the sheet down over Moira's abdomen as if it were an exceptionally fragile egg. He probed delicately with his fat fingertips, then used the stethoscope. "Those X-rays," said Len. "Have they come back yet?" "Mm-hm," said Berry. "Yes, they have." He moved the stethoscope and listened again. "Did they show anything unusual?" Len asked. Berry's eyebrows twitched a polite question. "We've been having a little argument," Moira said in a strained voice, "about whether this is an ordinary baby or not." Berry took the stethoscope tubes away from his ears. He gazed at Moira like an anxious spaniel. "Now let's not worry about _that_. We're going to have a perfectly healthy wonderful baby, and if anybody tells us differently, why, we'll just tell them to go jump in the lake, won't we?" "The baby is absolutely normal?" Len said in a marked manner. "Absolutely." Berry applied the stethoscope again. His face blanched. "What's the matter?" Len asked after a moment.