“My God!” exclaimed Alfred tragically, “it's Baby. He's crying.” And with that, he rushed to the crib and clasped the small mite close to his breast, leaving Zoie to pummel the pillows in an agony of vexation.
After vain cajoling of the angry youngster, Alfred bore him excitedly to Zoie's bedside.
“You'd better take him, dear,” he said.
To the young husband's astonishment, Zoie waved him from her in terror, and called loudly for Aggie. But no sooner had Aggie appeared on the scene, than a sharp whistle was heard from the pavement below.
“Pull down the shade!” cried Zoie frantically.
Aggie hastened toward the window.
Attributing Zoie's uneasiness to a caprice of modesty, Alfred turned from the cradle to reassure her.
“No one can see in way up here,” he said.
To Zoie's distress, the lowering of the shade was answered by a yet shriller whistle from the street below.
“Was it 'up' or 'down'?” cried Zoie to Aggie in an agony of doubt, as she tried to recall her instructions to Jimmy.