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Rh

[Sharply]

Who said Sammy knew? He don’t know a single thing about it! That’s been the work of my life, keeping him from knowing. When his father gave up and went off into it I sent Sammy right off to boarding school. I told him his father was sick, and a little while after I sent word his father was dead, and from then on until his father did really die during Sammy’s second year to college, I kept him away at school in winter and camp in summers and I went to see him, I never let him come home.

[With a sigh]

It was hard, giving up Sammy, knowing I was making him forget he had a mother. I was glad taking care of them two kept me so busy I didn’t get much chance to think then. But here’s what I’ve come to think since, Nina: I’m certain sure my husband might have kept his mind with the help of my love if I hadn’t had Sammy. And if I’d never had Sammy I’d never have loved Sammy—or missed him, would I?—and I’d have kept my husband.

[Not heeding this last—with wild mockery]

And I thought Sam was so normal—so healthy and sane—not like me! I thought he’d give me such healthy, happy children and I’d forget myself in them and learn to love him!

[Horrified, jumping to her feet]

Learn to? You told me you did love Sammy!