“Lord Macon deposited his wife into a chair and then knelt next to her, clutching one of her hands. "Tell me truthfully - how are you feeling?"Alexia took a breath. "Truthfully? I sometimes wonder if I, like Madame Lefoux, should affect masculine dress.""Gracious me, why?""You mean aside from the issue of greater mobility?""My love, I don't think that's currently the result of your clothing.""Indeed, I mean after the baby.""I still don't see why should want to.""Oh no? I dare you to spend a week in a corset, long skirts and a bustle.""How do you know I haven't?”

“Dearest Alexia, Oh, please absolve me of this guilt I already feel squishing on my very soul! My troubled heart weeps! Oh dear, Ivy was getting flowery. My bones ache with the sin that I am about to commit. Oh, why must I have bones? I have lost myself to this transplanting love. You could not possibly understand how this feels! Yet try to comprehend, dearest Alexia, I am like a delicate bloom. Marriage without love is all very well for people like you, but I should wilt and wither. I need a man possessed of a poet’s soul! I am simply not so stoic as you. I cannot stand to be apart from him one moment longer! The caboose of my love has derailed, and I must sacrifice all for the man I adore! Please do not judge me harshly! It was all for love! ~ Ivy.”

“Goodness,” said an exhausted Lady Maccon, “are babies customarily that repulsive looking?” Madame Lefoux pursed her lips and turned the infant about, as though she hadn’t quite looked closely before. “I assure you, the appearance improves with time.” Alexia held out her arms—her dress was already ruined anyway—and received the pink wriggling thing into her embrace. She smiled up at her husband. “I told you it would be a girl.” “Why isna she crying?” complained Lord Maccon. “Shouldna she be crying? Aren’t all bairns supposed to cry?” “Perhaps she’s mute,” suggested Alexia. “Be a sensible thing with parents like us.” Lord Maccon looked properly horrified at the idea.”

“Madame Lefoux shrugged. "I do not know about that, my lady. I mean to say, one's life is one thing; one's technology is an entirely different matter.”

“I mean to say, really, I am near to developing a neurosis - is there anyone around who doesn't want to study or kill me?"Floote raised a tentative hand."Ah, yes, thank you, Floote.""There is also Mrs Tunstell, madam," he offered hopefully, is if Ivy were some kind of consolation prize."I notice you don't mention my fair-weather husband.""I suspect, at this moment, madam, he probably wants to kill you."Alexia couldn't help smiling. "Good point.”

“Why, if you were not interested in me as anything more than a"-she stumbled, trying to find the right terminology-"momentary plaything, you might at least have just told me outright afterward." She crossed her arms and sneered at him. "Why didn't you? You think I was not strong enough to take it without causing a scene? I assure you, no one is better used to rejection than I, my lord. I think it very churlish of you not to inform me to my face that your breach in manners was an unfortunate impulse of the moment. I deserve some respect. We have known each other long enough for that at the very least.”

“Lord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How déclassé, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.”