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"Don't you think he's a bright baby?" asked the child, sitting down on a footstool, which was a favourite seat of hers. "For a French biby, 'e's as bright as you could expect," replied her hostess, judicially. "Are they different?" "Well, they ain't Hinglish." "I'm half American," said the little girl. "You don't talk through your nose. Far as I can see, you've got as good a haccent as me."
"You're such a quaint little body, you're a regular treat. I declare I ain't 'alf sure I wouldn't rather talk to you, than read the Princess Novelettes. Besides, I do get that tired of 'earin' nothin' but French, I'm most sorry I undertook the job; and the Biby don't pick up English much yet."
"They come from a dressmaker as is in a small way," designating the scraps by a gesture. "I clean up for 'er an' she lets me 'ave 'em. I make 'em up into anythink I can pin-cushions an' bags an' curtings an' balls. Nobody'd think wot they run to sometimes. Now an' then I sell some of 'em. Wot I can't sell I give away." "Drunken Bet's biby plays with 'er ball all day," said Glad.
After that, being so tired in brain as well as body, I asked a foolish question how long it would take me to get there. The old driver looked at me again, and said: "'Bout a 'our and a 'alf I should say by the looks of you and you carryin' the biby." I dare say my face dropped sadly as I turned away, feeling very tired, yet determined to struggle through.
For ther aint no shops as want kids squallin round, as fer as I can make out. An Jimmy's a limb, as boys mos'ly are in my egsperience. Larst week 'e give the biby a 'alfpenny and two o' my biggest buttons to swaller, an I ony jest smacked 'em out of 'er in time. Ther'd be murder done if I was to leave 'em. An 'ow 'ud I be able to pay anyone fer lookin' after em?
They were met by Glad at the threshold. She had shot back to them, panting. "She was blind drunk," she said, "an' she went out to get more. She tried to cross the street an' fell under a car. She'll be dead in five minits. I'm goin' for the biby." Dart saw Miss Montaubyn step back into her room. He turned involuntarily to look at her.
Pankhurst's followers that they would at last realize the futility of measuring their puny force against the muscle of man. Force, as the Premier had just said, must be the decisive factor. But unfortunately for these calculations the large male crowd took quite a different line. The day had gone by when men and boys were wont to cry to some expounding Suffragette: "Go home and mind yer biby."
She can't go out to-night, an' she's been 'uddled up all day cryin' for 'er mother." "Where is her mother?" "In the country on a farm. Polly took a place in a lodgin'-'ouse an' got in trouble. The biby was dead, an' when she come out o' Queen Charlotte's she was took in by a woman an' kep'. She kicked 'er out in a week 'cos of her cryin'. The life didn't suit 'er.
"I suppose yours is good?" asked Rosemary, as if she longed to have a doubt set forever at rest. "Rather! Ain't I been brought out from London on purpose so as this biby can learn to speak Hinglish, instead of French? It's pretty near the sime thing as bein' nursery governess. Madame wouldn't trust her own wye of pronouncing the languidge. She must 'ave a Hinglish girl."
And here's another of 'em, a little chap with long ears and a baby deer galloping alongside! An look at the lady with the biby, throwing it up and catching it like as if it was a ball. I wonder she ain't afraid. But it's pretty to see 'em." The broad park lay stretched before the children in growing greyness and a stillness that deepened.
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