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“No, they’re not fair,” Nan assented. “God’s been hard on you, poor old girl.”
“God! Oh, yes!” Jehane spoke the words gropingly, as though recollecting. “Ah, yes! God! He and I haven’t been talking to one another lately. The cares of this world—— the cares of this world—— What is that passage I’m trying to remember?”
“It’s about the sower who sows the good seed, but the cares of this world rise up and choke it unless it falls on fruitful land. It’s something like that.”
Jehane looked at Nan vaguely, only half-comprehending. “Fruitful land! That’s the difficulty. I was never fruitful land—— Tell me, why did you marry Billy?”
“Why? I never thought about it.”
“Think about it now. Why was it?”
“I suppose because I loved him and wanted to help him.”
Jehane’s elbow slipped from under her. She lay back, staring at the ceiling, looking gaunt and faded, as though she had passed through a long illness. “To help him! When I loved I wanted to be helped. God’s not been hard on me, little Nan; I’ve been hard on myself. I’m a hard woman. I’ve got what I deserved. And Ocky—— He was a fool. He had no mind—never read anything. He was clumsy and liked vulgar people best. But, perhaps, he’s my doing. Perhaps!”
Seeing that she had grown passive, Nan stole out to give the children their supper and to put them to bed. That night, the first time since Cassingland, she and Jehane slept together. The light had been put out for some time and Nan was growing drowsy, when Jehane spoke.
“Madeira Lodge! It’s funny. A house built on sand! A house built on—— That’s what we came here to do for other people; we’ve done it for ourselves. O God, spare my little children, my——”
Nan took her in her arms and soothed her.