On the top of Cyril's manuscript music on the table lay a hot-water bottle.
Draped over the back of his favorite chair was a pink-bordered baby blanket.

On the piano-stool rested a beribboned and beruffled baby's toilet basket.

From behind the sofa pillow leered ridiculously the Teddy bear, just as it had left Cyril's desperate hand.
No wonder, indeed, that Billy smiled.

Billy was thinking of what Marie had said not a week before: "I shall keep the baby, of course, in the nursery.

I've been in homes where they've had baby things strewn from one end of the house to the other; but it won't be that way here.