"No, no more human volumes, Jerry, until we have ample means. Printing and binding and bookshelves are so costly for human volumes. Besides, one must be so careful what one writes in them."
"I suppose I have something to say about that," he said angrily.
"Certainly. I supposed I was expressing your conviction, too, Jerry, that only the best that love can give, only the largest opportunity, could excuse bringing children into the world."
Bobs looked from one to the other of them, trying to analyze Jerry's anger.
"Jane's right. Most parents would have a hard time defending themselves, if their children came to them with the question, 'Why did you do this to me?'"
"You talk an awful lot of nonsense, you two," said Jerry, flinging out of the room.
"What's the matter with him?" Bobs asked.
"He's bitterly opposed to my writing."
"He's jealous; I know him."
"He doesn't think it's that. I only just realized to-night that he was hurt because I hadn't offered him the book. I was hurt because he didn't ask for it," she added.