The woman herself is hoping it will be a girl, for she says that boys are too boisterous and headstrong, and too fond of running into danger. While they are little (she says) they are for ever climbing tall trees and bathing in deep water; and when they are grown up they take to. fighting, and killing one another. Pooh! Does she think that _girls_ never get drowned? Many a drowned girl's corpse have I seen, and they looked as all drowned corpses do--wet and livid and swollen. And does she think that gauds and jewellery never yet brought a girl to her death? Ah, poor thing! she is having a hard and painful childbed of it. Here have we been sitting these sixteen mortal hours, and she screaming the whole time! True, she is quieter now, and only gasps and moans, but, a short while ago, it fairly split one's ears to hear her! The doctor thinks she is going to die. No, no! What the doctor said was that the _child_ will be born dead, but the mother herself recover. But why need there be births at all? They are such painful things! Well, why need there be deaths either? They are more painful still, are they not? [_The Old Women chuckle again._] Ah well, 'tis the way of the world--births and deaths, births and deaths. Yes; and then more births. [_For the third time the Old Women chuckle. At the same moment there is heard behind the scenes a stifled cry, as of a woman in agony._] There! She is going to scream again! Well, at least it is a good sign that she has recovered her voice. Yes, it is a good sign. That poor husband of hers! The silly fool is in such a way about it that it makes one almost die of laughing to see him. A short while ago he was in raptures because his wife was pregnant, and kept saying that he hoped the baby would be a boy. Perhaps he thought that any boy of _his_ would grow up to be a Minister of State or a general at the very least! But now he wants neither boy nor girl, but only fusses about and weeps. When the pangs come upon her he seems to suffer almost as much as she does. He grows absolutely livid in the face! A short while ago they sent him to the chemist's for some medicine; but, after kicking his heels about outside the shop for two mortal hours, he was still unable to remember what he had come for, and had to go home again empty-handed. [_The Old Women burst into renewed chuckles, while the screams behind the scenes increase for a moment, and then die away again into silence._] What ails her now? Surely she has not expired? Not she! Had that been so, we should have heard the waiters beginning their lament, and the doctor running about the house, and chattering his foolish nonsense. Besides, her husband would have been gone off into a dead faint and been brought in here, and then _we_ should have had some work to do. No, no; she's not dead. Then why need we stay here longer? Oh, ask _Him_. How can _we_ tell what is going to happen? He never tells us _anything_--never!