Thomas awoke when the doorbell rang and his mother left the room to answer the door. A few minutes later, Mary walked in carrying their son on her hip. She greeted Marge, saying, “Is something wrong with your phone? When I called you, I heard a series of clicks before the line connected.”
“No, I don’t believe so,” Marge said, “Perhaps one of the switches at the telephone company was having a temporary problem. At any rate, it doesn’t matter. You were able to call me, weren’t you?”
Mary walked over to Thomas’s playpen, leaned over and placed her free hand on the railing of the playpen. She looked at the baby boy on her hip for a moment, comparing him to the baby in the playpen and mentally marking the resemblance between the two of them.