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[After an awful pause]: You’re goin’ to have a kid. [She stares incredulously at him without making a sound.] Yeah. It’s so, Amy. I’m awful sorry. The doc just told me. He found out when you was sick last week. He knows all about it.

[''She stands a moment without moving at all. Suddenly she lets quilt and papers slip to the floor and her hands clasp themselves over her abdomen''.] Oh, my God! [''She picks the quilt and papers up very carefully and puts them on the table. She drops weakly into one of the chairs as though her knees had failed her, her face rigid with terror''.]

I know how it is. Just keep your head, now.

What am I going to do?

I got to think.