“My love, you said it was a gain, and I said it was a gain. A very innocent remark, surely.”
“I won’t,” said the inexhaustible baby, “—allow—you—to—make—game—of—my—venerable—Ma.” At each division administering a soft facer with one of the speckled fists.
John having stooped down to receive these punishing visitations, Bella asked him, would it be necessary to move soon? Why yes, indeed (said John), he did propose that they should move very soon. Taking the furniture with them, of course? (said Bella). Why, no (said John), the fact was, that the house was—in a sort of a kind of a way—furnished already.
The inexhaustible baby, hearing this, resumed the offensive, and said: “But there’s no nursery for me, sir. What do you mean, marble-hearted parent?” To which the marble-hearted parent rejoined that there was a—sort of a kind of a—nursery, and it might be “made to do.”
“Made to do?” returned the Inexhaustible, administering more punishment, “what do you take