Books: ROMANCE

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(2 of 3)

The nurse's eyes had already darted back to her book. The baby, as soon as it felt solid ground beneath it, crawled off again, this time towards the path. The little girl gave a cry and rushed to the rescue. But now another little girl, dark-headed, in a short red frock, who was running along the path, also noticed the baby's escape. She turned to head it off from the gravel. "Dirty! dirty!" She reached it first, caught it and tried to lift it bodily into the air. She was a strong child and by a great effort she succeeded in raising its forepart from the ground so that it hung suspended. Its face, in this position, was still perfectly calm. "Dirty, dirty," the dark little girl scolded.

The blue girl now reached the spot and caught the baby round the legs. "Naughty, naughty." She dragged it towards the rug.

But the other, perhaps not having noticed the rug, half hidden by the shrubs, dragged it in a different direction so that its woollen coat rose over its ears. "Dirty, dirty," she cried.

"Naughty" cried the other, tugging at the legs. She did not look at the dark girl, who, for her part, ignored this interloper. Each pulled with all her might. The baby's clothes came apart in the middle, showing several inches of its round white body. But it made no sound. Its arms, sticking straight out like pegs, were obviously waiting to crawl again as soon as this interruption came to an end.

The dark little girl gave a sudden angry scream, whereupon blue trousers shouted, "It's mine, it's mine—I had it first." Her voice shook with tears.

In the distance, the nurse turned a page. Her nose jumped up six inches ready for the next sentence; but her eyes moved a little further, and saw the struggle. She cried in a tone of impatient despair, "Naughty boy."

"Let it alone," shouted the dark girl. "Leave go—go away."

"Mummy, Mummy," cried the other in tears.

A PLUMP young woman, strolling along the path in the sun, with a face of such tranquil, unreflecting enjoyment that she seemed like one of those drunks who, at the end of the party, do not even need to smile from their trance, stopped, gazed, gradually took in the scene and at last, with a look of such conscious wisdom that it seemed to say to itself "Ain't I a clever responsible person?", rescued the baby, carried it to the rug, and carefully, maternally laid it flat on its back.