myself! Can’t you understand what it’d mean to me, how I’d suffer? You don’t know how I’d planned—for Ruth and me—the hopes I’d had about what the future’d be like. You can’t blame me to go. You’d do the same yourself. I’d go crazy here, bein’ reminded every second of the day how my life’s been smashed, and what a fool I’d made of myself. I’d have nothing to hope or live for. I’ve got to get away and try and forget, if I can. I never could stay here—seeing her. And I’d hate the farm if I stayed, hate it for bringin’ things back. I couldn’t take interest in the work any more, work with no purpose in sight. Can’t you see what a hell it’d be? You love her too, Rob. Put yourself in my place, and remember I haven’t stopped loving her, and couldn’t if I was to stay. Would that be fair to you or to her? Put yourself in my place. [He shakes his brother fiercely by the shoulder.] What’d you do then? Tell me the truth! You love her. What’d you do? In spite of all hell, what’d you do?
Robert—[Chokingly.] I’d—I’d go, Andy! [He buries his face in his hands with a shuddering sob.] God!
Andrew—[Seeming to relax suddenly all over his body—in a low, steady voice.] Then you know why I got to go; and there’s nothing more to be said.
Robert—[In a frenzy of rebellion.] Why did this have to happen to us? It’s damnable! [He looks about him wildly, as if his vengeance were seeking the responsible fate.]
