American [also taking out a cigar]. I guess it would be well to fumigate this carriage. Does it suffer, do you think?
Little Man [peering]. Really, I don't—I'm not sure—I know so little about babies. I think it would have a nice expression—if—if it showed.
American. Is it kind of boiled-looking?
Little Man. Yes—yes, it is.
American [looking gravely round]. I judge this baby has the measles. [The German screws himself spasmodically against the arm of the Englishwoman's seat.]
Englishwoman. Poor little thing! Shall I—? [She half-rises.]
Englishman [touching her]. No, no—Dash it!
American. I honor your emotion, ma'am. It does credit to us all. But I sympathize with your husband too. The measles is a vurry important pestilence in connection with a grown woman.
Little Man. It likes my finger awfully. Really, it's rather a sweet baby.
American [sniffing]. Well, that would appear to be quite a question. About them spots, now? Are they rosy?