"No, Dr. Cervini says there's no harm in my singing unless I fatigue myself. And I never do that."
But his face was anxious. So with an air of cheerful confidence she exclaimed:
"I have decided on a boy. Yes, a boy! Smile again. I love to see you smile. Why a boy? Because boys are stronger and bigger than girls; more reasoning; more honest. What? Not so lovable as girls. Oh, nonsense!"
Here a pause.
"I don't quite understand. Think that again.—Oh, well I shouldn't mind if he was. I love bad boys. Of course we don't want a cowardly, mean-spirited, stingy, cold-blooded, deceitful kind of badness."
Here, after another pause, she laughed. "Yes, I suppose that is just what I do mean—a bad boy who is good."
Another silence, and another laugh. "No, never!" "But tell me, Defender of Women, why do you wish for a girl? Because what? She might be a perfect copy of myself? Oh, honey-mouthed humbug!"
She rose, stooped over, kissed him, and sat down again.
"Well, I shall be happy, very happy, whatever the Bon Dieu gives us."