—But the way she screamed, mamma?
—Yes, her face was purple from screaming. I noticed it.
—Not from screaming, but from laboring. You don't understand about these things. My face got purple too, but I didn't scream.
—Not long ago an acquaintance of mine, the civil engineer's wife, gave birth to a child, and she scarcely made a sound.
—I know. There's no need for my brother to be so upset. One must be firm and take things calmly. And I'm afraid, too, he'll introduce a lot of his fantastic notions in the bringing up of his children and indulge their every whim.
—He's a very weak character. He has little enough money, and yet he lends it to people who don't deserve to be trusted.
—Do you know how much the child's layette cost?
—Don't talk to me of it! It gets on my nerves, my brother's extravagance does. I often quarrel with him because he's so improvident.
—They say a stork brings babies. What sort of a stork is it?
[The young men burst out laughing.