“See here,” he began largely. “Now what d’you know ’bout kids––raisin’ ’em, I mean?”
The girl’s eyes twinkled on the verge of laughing outright.
“Zip’s kids?” she inquired shrewdly.
Sandy started and frowned.
“What d’you mean––Zip’s kids?”
“Oh, just nothing,” said Birdie airily. “Seein’ kids was in your mind, I naturally tho’t o’ Zip’s.”
Sandy nodded. But he was only half convinced. How on earth, he wondered, did she know he was thinking of Zip’s kids? He felt that it would be best to nip that idea in the bud. It was undignified that he should appear to be interested in Zip’s twins.
“I ain’t interested in no special kids,” he said, with some dignity. “I was just theorizin’––like. Now, if you got married, wot you know of raisin’ kids? Guess you’re that ignorant of the subject maybe you’d feed ’em hay?”
Birdie laughed dutifully, but her retort was rather disconcerting.
“You bin married––how’d you feed ’em? I’m learning.”