The Infant of Prague calmly reflected the golden lamplight in the wonderful depths of its polished surface.
Suddenly an inspiration came to Ronnie. Brightness returned to his face.
He stood up.
"Darling," he said, "I told you that an even greater moment was coming for us."
She rose also, and faced him, expectant.
He put out his hand and lifted the Infant.
"Helen, let's go to the studio, where I first told you I felt sure I could play a 'cello. We will sit there in the firelight as we did on that last evening, seven months ago, and you shall hear me make the Infant sing, for the very first time."
Then the young motherhood in Helen, arose and took her by the throat.
"Ronald!" she said. "You are utterly, preposterously, altogether, selfish! I am ashamed of you!"
They faced each other across the table.