been in the poor house—and all ’count of his pig-headed pride in not lettin’ Andy know the state thin’s were in. A nice thing for me to have to support him out of what I’d saved for my last days—and me an invalid with no one to look to!
Ruth—Andy’ll pay you back, Ma. I can tell him so’s Rob’ll never know.
Mrs. Atkins—[With a snort.] What’d Rob think you and him was livin’ on, I’d like to know?
Ruth—[Dully.] He didn’t think about it, I s’pose. [After a slight pause.] He said he’d made up his mind to ask Andy for help when he comes. [As a clock in the kitchen strikes six.] Six o’clock. Andy ought to get here directly.
Mrs. Atkins—D’you think this special doctor’ll do Rob any good?
Ruth—[Hopelessly.] I don’t know. [The two women remain silent for a time staring dejectedly at the stove.]
Mrs. Atkins—[Shivering irritably.] For goodness’ sake put some wood on that fire. I’m most freezin’!
Ruth—[Pointing to the door in the rear.] Don’t talk so loud. Let him sleep if he can. [She gets wearily from the chair and puts a few pieces of wood in the stove. Then she tiptoes to the bedroom door and listens.]
Mrs. Atkins—[In a sharp whisper.] Is he sleepin’?
Ruth—[Coming back.] I couldn’t hear him move.
