"But, my dear Mrs. Walton," she was saying, "you'll be having all the tramps in England leaving their babies at your door."
"The better for the babies," interposed I, laughing.
"But you don't think of your wife, Mr. Walton."
"Don't I? I thought I did," I returned dryly.
"Depend upon it, you'll repent it."
"I hope I shall never repent of anything but what is bad."
"Ah! but, really! it's not a thing to be made game of."
"Certainly not. The baby shall be treated with all due respect in this house."
"What a provoking man you are! You know what I mean well enough."
"As well as I choose to know—certainly," I answered.