She noticed it. But she did not complain. She said to herself that her husband’s new enterprise was swallowing all his cash; and one night she asked him how the new restaurant was progressing.
“What new restaurant?” he asked blandly.
“The one up-town, Toodles—for the baby—”
Nag Hong Fah laughed carelessly.
“Oh—I gave up that option. Didn’t lose much.”
Fanny sat up straight, clutching little Fanny to her.
“You—you gave it up?” she asked. “Wottya mean—gave it up?”
Then suddenly inspired by some whisper of suspicion, her voice leaping up extraordinarily strong: “You mean you gave it up—because—because little Fanny is—a goil?”
He agreed with a smiling nod.
“To be sure! A girl is fit only to bear children and clean the household pots.”