Ruth—He wanted to make sure I’d be all right—after he’d gone, I expect.
Andrew—No, it wasn’t that. He knows very well I’d naturally look after you without—anything like that.
Ruth—He might be thinking of—something happened five years back, the time you came home from the trip.
Andrew—What happened? What do you mean?
Ruth—[Dully.] It was the day you came. We had a fight.
Andrew—A fight? What has that to do with me?
Ruth—It was about you—in a way.
Andrew—[Amazed.] About me?
Ruth—Yes, mostly. You see I’d found out I’d made a mistake about Rob soon after we were married—when it was too late.
Andrew—Mistake? [Slowly.] You mean—you found out you didn’t love Rob?
Ruth—Yes.
Andrew—Good God!
Ruth—And then I thought that when Mary came it’d be different, and I’d love him; but it didn’t happen that way. And I couldn’t bear with his blundering and book-reading—and I grew to hate him, almost.
Andrew—Ruth!
Ruth—I couldn’t help it. No woman could. It had to be because I loved someone else, I’d found out. [She sighs wearily.] It can’t do no harm to tell you
