"Guess!" she cried, "guess what's happened!"
"Dunno, old girl," said Osborn.
"That dear darling Mr. Rokeby has sent us the most gorgeous baby-carriage."
"The devil he has!" said Osborn, with deep feeling, straightening his shoulders as if a burden had been lifted from them.
"It's down in the lobby with the other prams; you must go down and see it."
"I will after dinner. By Jove, that's good of Rokeby! I wonder what made him think of it."
"I can't imagine; he is thoughtful, isn't he?"
"What's it like?"
"It's pale grey, with ball bearings; and C-springs, and an umbrella basket. There's no enamel; it's all nickel. And the upholstery...."
"By Jove, Desmond's done the youngster proud, what?"