"A—human baby?"
"Of course!" she cried, with the virtuous resentment of the woman who has never allowed dogs in the house.
Lethbury's puzzled stare broke into a fresh smile. "A baby I sha'n't approve of? Well, in the abstract I don't think much of them, I admit. Is this an abstract baby?"
Again she frowned at the adjective; but she had reached a pitch of exaltation at which such obstacles could not deter her.
"It's the loveliest baby—" she murmured.
"Ah, then it's concrete. It exists. In this harsh world it draws its breath in pain—"
"It's the healthiest child I ever saw!" she indignantly corrected.
"You've seen it, then?"
Again the accusing blush suffused her. "Yes—I've seen it."
"And to whom does the paragon belong?"