Part 14 (1/2)
[The DUTCH YOUTH laughs.]
AMERICAN. I am told that is not uncommon amongst babies. Perhaps we could have you inform us, ma'am.
ENGLISHWOMAN. Yes, of course--only what sort of----
LITTLE MAN. They seem all over its----[At the slight recoil of everyone] I feel sure it's--it's quite a good baby underneath.
AMERICAN. That will be rather difficult to come at. I'm just a bit sensitive. I've very little use for affections of the epidermis.
GERMAN. Pfui! [He has edged away as far as he can get, and is lighting a big cigar]
[The DUTCH YOUTH draws his legs back.]
AMERICAN. [Also taking out a cigar] I guess it would be well to fumigate this carriage. Does it suffer, do you think?
LITTLE MAN. [Peering] Really, I don't--I'm not sure--I know so little about babies. I think it would have a nice expression--if--if it showed.
AMERICAN. Is it kind of boiled looking?
LITTLE MAN. Yes--yes, it is.
AMERICAN. [Looking gravely round] I judge this baby has the measles.
[The GERMAN screws himself spasmodically against the arm of the ENGLISHWOMAN'S seat.]
ENGLISHWOMAN. Poor little thing! Shall I----?
[She half rises.]
ENGLISHMAN. [Touching her] No, no----Dash it!
AMERICAN. I honour your emotion, ma'am. It does credit to us all.
But I sympathize with your husband too. The measles is a very important pestilence in connection with a grown woman.
LITTLE MAN. It likes my finger awfully. Really, it's rather a sweet baby.
AMERICAN. [Sniffing] Well, that would appear to be quite a question. About them spots, now? Are they rosy?
LITTLE MAN. No-o; they're dark, almost black.
GERMAN. Gott! Typhus! [He bounds up on to the arm of the ENGLISHWOMAN'S Seat.]
AMERICAN. Typhus! That's quite an indisposition!
[The DUTCH YOUTH rises suddenly, and bolts out into the corridor. He is followed by the GERMAN, puffing clouds of smoke. The ENGLISH and AMERICAN sit a moment longer without speaking. The ENGLISHWOMAN'S face is turned with a curious expression--half pity, half fear--towards the LITTLE MAN. Then the ENGLISHMAN gets up.]
ENGLISHMAN. Bit stuffy for you here, dear, isn't it?
[He puts his arm through hers, raises her, and almost pushes her through the doorway. She goes, still looking back.]