Evans
[Stammers]
You’re not—going to have a child—
Nina
[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.
Evans
[Immediately on the crest again—tenderly]
Why? Don’t you want me to be happy, Nina?
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! . . .
Evans
[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
