"Yes--yes!" said Stephen, passing his hand through his thick hair.
They were standing in the living room, talking together.
"Stephen!" came Maria's feeble, anxious voice from the next room.
He went into the bedroom with his heavy tread which he did not know how to subdue. "What is it?" he asked.
She held out her hand, as if to signify that he should come nearer. Then he came to the bedside, but his bearing was still exactly as it had been ever since the evening when his brother Ludwig left home.
"What--what is the baby's name going to be?" she asked tremulously.
"Haven't I told you already?" he answered, looking her straight in the face without wincing.
"Not--not that name," she begged. "Don't do that to the child."
He turned carelessly away, as if to leave the room. The doctor stood on the threshold with his hat and stick in his hand.
"Not--not that name, Stephen," begged the sick woman.