Little man. [Faintly] I—­I can see its face a little now.

     [All bend forward.]

American.  What sort of a physiognomy has it, anyway?

Little man. [Still faintly] I don’t see anything but—­but spots.

German.  Oh!  Ha!  Pfui!

     [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?