"Do I?" said Ingeborg, very willing to believe her.
The young lady sorted out small garments from green calico boxes labelled For Firsts. There were little jackets, little shirts, little caps, everything one could need for the upper portion of a baby.
"So," said the young lady, pushing a pile of these articles across the counter to Ingeborg.
"God, God!" cried Ilse in an ecstasy at such tininess, thrusting her red thumb through one of the diminutive sleeves and holding it up to show how tightly it fitted.
"Nicht wahr?" agreed the young lady, though without excitement.
"But," said Ingeborg, laboriously searching out her words, "the baby doesn't leave off there, at its middle. It'll go on. It'll be a whole baby. It'll have legs and things. What does one put on the rest of it?"
The young lady looked at Ilse for enlightenment.
"It'll have a rest, Ilse," said Ingeborg, also appealing to her. "These things are just clothes for cherubs."
"Ach so," said the young lady, visited by a glimmer of understanding, and turning round she dexterously whipped down more green boxes, and taking off the lids brought out squares of different materials, linen, flannel, and a soft white spongy stuff.
"Swaddle," she said, holding them up.