to you?"

"No, no!" cried Rouquin. "To be sure I know the sex of this adorable
infant. I know the parents--"

"What is it? A boy or a girl?"

Rouquin closed an eye slowly. "Ah, M'sieur Bang--Bingle, may I not
leave the question of sex to the child itself? What could be more
beautiful than to present to your notice a perfect example of
humanity, without uttering a single word to aid you in your
speculation as to the gender, and then to sit calmly back and relish
the joy you will reveal when you find that you have guessed correctly
the very first time, as the boys would say? That would be the
magnificent compensation to me. You will need but one glance at this
wonderful specimen. One glance will be sufficient. You will instantly
exclaim: 'What a monstrous fine boy--or girl!' as the case may be.
Ah, sir--"

"I must have a boy," said Mr. Bingle.

Monsieur Rouquin looked relieved. He permitted a roguish light to
steal into his eyes. "I still implore you to keep your mind open, Mr.
Bingle, until you have seen the child I have in mind. Permit me this
little, silly, boyish pleasure, sir--the pleasure of hearing you
exclaim--out of a clear sky, so to say--'Ah, what a monstrous fine--'"

"All right, Rouquin," broke in Mr. Bingle. "Only I warn you that if it
isn't a boy, it will be a case of love's labour lost on your part."