Royal Ainsley started violently as he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Why don't you feed your baby, sir?" she said, brusquely.
He looked at her angrily, his brows bent together in a decided frown.
"What do you mean by interrupting my thoughts, woman?" he cried, harshly.
His angry retort roused all the antagonism in the woman's nature.
"I mean just what I say—your baby's hungry, mister," she replied. "If you had the feelings of a loving father, you'd know enough to feed it."
He looked at her in consternation.
"Feed it?" he echoed, blankly. "I—I was not prepared for anything like this. Such a thing did not occur to me."
"And you didn't bring a nursing-bottle along with you?" echoed the woman.
"No," he responded, curtly, but also somewhat blankly.