and stares at the stove—dully.] He acted—funny; and his eyes looked so—so wild like.
Mrs. Atkins—[With asperity.] And is that all you woke me out of a sound sleep for, and scared me near out of my wits?
Ruth—I was afraid. He talked so crazy—staring out of the window as if he saw—something—and speaking about the hills, and wanting to see the sun rise—and all such notions. I couldn’t quiet him. It was like he used to talk—only mad, kind of. I didn’t want to be alone with him that way. Lord knows what he might do.
Mrs. Atkins—[Scornfully.] Humph! A poor help I’d be to you and me not able to move a step! Why didn’t you run and get Jake?
Ruth—[Dully.] Jake isn’t here. I thought I’d told you. He quit last night. He hasn’t been paid in three months. You can’t blame him.
Mrs. Atkins—[Indignantly.] No, I can’t blame him when I come to think of it. What decent person’d want to work on a place like this? [With sudden exasperation.] Oh, I wish you’d never married that man!
Ruth—[Wearily.] You oughtn’t to talk about him now when he’s sick in his bed.
Mrs. Atkins—[Working herself into a fit of rage.] It’s lucky for me and you, too, I took my part of the place out of his hands years ago. You know very well, Ruth Mayo, if it wasn’t for me helpin’ you on the sly out of my savin’s, you’d both
