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[Stammers]

You’re not—going to have a child—

[Savagely]

Oh, yes! Oh, yes, I am! Nothing can keep me from that! But you’re—you’re—I mean, you

[Thinking in anguish]

I can’t say that to him! I can’t tell him without Ned to help me! I can’t! look at his face! oh, poor Sammy! poor little boy! poor little boy!

[She takes his head and presses it to her breast and begins to weep]

[Weeping]

I mean, you weren’t to know about it, Sammy.

[Immediately on the crest again—tenderly]

Why? Don’t you want me to be happy, Nina?

Yes—yes, I do, Sammy.

[Thinking strangely]

Little boy! little boy! one gives birth to little boys! one doesn’t drive them mad and kill them!

[Thinking]

She’s never called me Sammy before someone used to  oh, yes, Mother.

[Tenderly and boyishly]

And I’m going to make you happy from now on, Nina. I