Moy!"
I suppose Miriam did her best, but he was not to be quieted, and old ladies
in omnibuses peered reproaches at me, the cruel, cruel parent. I frowned
upon Miriam.
"Will nothing stop the child?"
"There's a smut on your nose, dear," was all she replied. I rubbed my nose;
I also ground my teeth....
I was still wrestling on the pavement with the pram, the cot and the rest
of it, when Billie's cries from within the house suddenly ceased. Had the
poor little chap burst something? I hurried indoors and found him--all
sunshine after showers--seated on the floor with rocking-horse and Noah's
ark and butcher's shop grouped around him.
"He's quite good now he's got his toys," he assured me, no doubt echoing
something Miriam had just said.
* * * * *
I reached my study and collapsed into a chair. What a day! But little by
little, shelf upon shelf, I became aware of the books I had not seen for a
whole month: LAMB, my Elizabethans, a row of STEVENSON. I did not want to
read; it was enough to feast one's eyes on their backs, to take down a
volume and handle it my old green-jacketed BROWNING, for instance. And the
small red MEREDITHS all needed rearranging.
A little later I turned round to see Miriam standing in the doorway.
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