And I don’t believe in Him, neither, not any more. I used to be a great one for worrying about what’s God and what’s devil, but I got richly over it living here with poor folks that was being punished for no sins of their own, and me being punished with them for no sin but loving much.
[With decision]
Being happy, that’s the nearest we can ever come to knowing what’s good! Being happy, that’s good! The rest is just talk!
[She pauses—then with a strange austere sternness]
I love my boy, Sammy. I could see how much he wants you to have a baby. Sammy’s got to feel sure you love him—to be happy. Whatever you can do to make him happy is good—is good, Nina! I don’t care what! You’ve got to have a healthy baby—sometime—so’s you can both be happy! It’s your rightful duty!
Nina
[Confusedly—in a half-whisper]
Yes, Mother.
[Thinking longingly]
I want to be happy! . . . it’s my right . . . and my duty! . . .
[Then suddenly in guilty agony]
Oh, my baby . . . my poor baby . . . I’m forgetting you . . . desiring another after you are dead! . . . I feel you beating against my heart for mercy . . . oh ! . . .
[She weeps with bitter anguish]
Mrs. Evans
[Gently and with deep sympathy]
I know what you’re suffering. And I wouldn’t say what I
