"He is ours. He is mine, mine," his wife answered quickly, as she held the baby tighter to her, and looked at her husband with a savage jealousy in her eyes.
"But there was that chap——" Taylor began.
"I don't care. I won't give him up. He's mine," she interrupted. "No one's going to have him; no one—never," she continued, as she rose to her feet and walked up and down the room, with her face bent over the child she held so closely to her.
The neighbour caught Taylor's eye and signed him to be quiet.
"Of course no one will have him but you," she said quietly. "I'd like to see who'd take him when Taylor's here. Why, he hasn't been round his boundary fences even, he's so took up with him."
Mrs. Taylor stopped in her walk, and turned to her husband with the jealous gleam still flickering in her eyes.
"Would you give him up, Bill?" she asked.
"Not me," he answered.
"Then we'll talk about his name," she interposed, before he could say more. "He's going to be called Richard Taylor."
"But that chap asked me—he said, 'Call him Tony, after me.' That's what he said, and I said——"