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—[Sullenly.] She’s only saying what Doctor Smith said.

—[Fiercely.] He’s an old ass, and I’ll tell him if

—[Sharply.] S-h-h! You’ll wake her; and then she’ll nag at me—not you.

—[Coughs and lies hack in his chair weakly—a pause.] It’s all because your mother’s down on me for not begging Andy for help when things got worse here.

—[Resentfully.] You might have. He’s got plenty, if what he says is true.

—How can you of all people think of taking money from him?

—[Dully.] I don’t see the harm. He’s your own brother.

—[Shrugging his shoulders.] What’s the use of talking to you? Well, I couldn’t. [Proudly.] And I’ve managed to keep things going, thank God. You can’t deny that without help I’ve succeeded in [He breaks off with a bitter laugh.] My God, what am I boasting of? Debts to this one and that, taxes, interest unpaid! I’m a fool! [He lies back in his chair closing his eyes for a moment, then speaks in a low voice.] I’ll be frank, Ruth. I’ve been an utter failure, and I’ve dragged you with me. I couldn’t blame you in all justice—for hating me.

—[Without feeling.] I don’t hate you. It’s been my fault too, I s’pose.