"In less refined circles than ours," I said to Myra, "your behaviour would be described as swank. Really, to judge from the airs you put on, you might be the child's mother." "He's jealous because he's not an aunt himself. Isn't he, ducksey darling?" "I do wish you wouldn't keep dragging the baby into the conversation; we can make it go quite well as a duologue. As to being jealous-why, it's absurd. True, I'm not an aunt, but in a very short time I shall be an uncle by marriage, which sounds to me much superior. That is," I added, "if you're still equal to it."