"There's another coming in five months," said Edie.
"Go on. How many more?"
"I don't know—plenty yet, I expect."
The magic of home that for a few moments had enchanted the little house was dispelled. Moreover, at tea Norman smeared his face with jam, and snatched, and kicked his mother because she slapped his wrist.
"Why do you let him behave so bad?" asked Jenny, unconscious that she was already emulating her own hated Aunt Mabel.
"I don't, only he's such a handful; and his dad spoils him. Besides, anything for a bit of peace and quiet. Bert never thinks what a worry children is, and as if I hadn't got enough to look after, he brought back a dog last week."
"Why don't you tell him off?"
"Oh, it's easier to humor him. You'll find that out quick enough when you're married yourself."
"Me married? I don't think."
On the way to the theater that evening Jenny almost made up her mind to join Maurice, and would probably have been constant to her resolve, had it not been for one of those trivial incidents which more often than great events change the whole course of a life.