She tried cajolery, fried his take of trout deliciously for him, and he sat down to them sniffing.
They were small, and the remainder of their brief career was in two parts.

First he lifted them by the tail, then he laid down the tail.
But not a word about the glove.
She tried tears.

"Dinna greet, woman," he said in distress.

"What would the bairn say if he kent I made you greet ?" Gavinia went on greeting, and the baby, waking up, promptly took her side.
"D----n the thing!" said Corp.
"Your ain bairn!" "I meant the glove!" he roared.
It was curiosity only that troubled Gavinia.

A reader of romance, as you may remember, she had encountered in the printed page a score of ladies who, on finding such parcels in their husbands' pockets, left their homes at once and for ever, and she had never doubted but that it was the only course to follow; such is the power of the writer of fiction.