“Then why are you so bitter?”

“I’m not! If my cock gives its last crow, I don’t mind.”

“But if you have a child?” she said.

He dropped his head.

“Why,” he said at last. “It seems to me a wrong and bitter thing to do, to bring a child into this world.”

“No! Don’t say it! Don’t say it!” she pleaded. “I think I’m going to have one. Say you’ll be pleased.” She laid her hand on his.

“I’m pleased for you to be pleased,” he said. “But for me it seems a ghastly treachery to the unborn creature.”