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It ’s true, ain’t it; truth ain’t always fair—You ain’t helped me none, you ’ve hurt me—worse than being broke, worse than bein’ in jail.

It don’t seem like I could stand to have you talk like that.

What you done you done for her. I did n’t count, I never have, not with you.

When you ’ve been trying to do a thing as long as I have, it gets to be a part of you.

You done it all for her—well—she’s dead—you ’d better go.

Maybe I had, but if I do it will be with the truth between us. Here ’s the letter she left for me, Ben—I got a feeling somehow like she was here with us now, like she wanted you to read it. (She holds it out) It’ s like she was guiding us from the grave—Read it.

[Crosses up to window.

(reads)

“My dear Jane: The doctor tells me I have n’t long to live and so I am doing this, the meanest thing I think I ’ve ever done to you. I ’m leaving you the Jordan money. Since my husband died there has been just one person I could get to care about, that ’s Ben, who was my baby so long after all the others had forgotten how to love me. (He mumbles the letter to himself, then brings out the words) “Hold