And as though she had not already enough to bear, she found new trouble awaiting her that dwarfed all that had gone before, when she returned to the house the following evening after another day of fruitless search for work. Mrs. Williams, her landlady, had volunteered to care for Jean while she was out, despite her words of the night before. When the rickety screen door banged behind her, Mimi heard Mrs. Williams calling from the rear of the house. On an old davenport lay Jean, vomiting wretchedly. Intermittently he screamed, writhing in the paroxysmal pain which recurred every few minutes. On his face was a ghastly pallor and he seemed in a state of complete collapse.
Mimi rushed to the cot and fell on her knees beside Jean as she flung anxious questions at the perspiring, frightened woman above her.
“Yes’m, I called a doctor—my doctor—and he said it wasn’t nothing but cramps. He gave your baby some castor oil, but soon as the doctor left he began throwin’ up