I seize it, and shake it, and put my hand to its neck. ‘You shan’t!’ I say again. ‘Damn you, do you think I have come so far, for this?’ I look at the woman. ‘I shall kill your baby first!’—I think I would do it.—‘See, here! I shall stifle it!’ The man, the girl, the boy, look interested. The woman looks sorry. ‘My dear,’ she says, ‘I have seven babies about the place, just now. Make it six, if you want. Make it’—with a gesture to the tin box beneath the table—‘make it five. It is all the same to me. I fancy I am about to give the business up, anyway.’
WTF
