Tom (In an aggrieved voice): You see, Ma, how she treats me. (In affected tones) I have a good mind, young lady to punish you, er—er corporeally speaking. Tut! Tut! I have a mind to master thee—I mean—you. Methinks that if I should advance upon you, apply, perchance, two or three digits to your glossy locks and extract—aha!—say a strand—you would no more defy me. (He starts to rise).
Mrs. Loving (Quickly and sharply): Rachel! give Tom the candy and stop playing. (Rachel obeys. They eat in silence. The old depression returns. When the candy is all gone, Rachel pushes her chair back, and is just about to rise, when her mother, who is very evidently nerving herself for something, stops her). Just a moment, Rachel. (Pauses, continuing slowly and very seriously). Tom and Rachel! I have been trying to make up my mind for some time whether a certain thing is my duty or not. Today—I have decided it is. You are old enough, now,—and I see you ought to be told. Do you know what day this is? (Both Tom and Rachel have been watching their mother intently). It’s the sixteenth of October. Does that mean anything to either of you?
Tom and Rachel (Wonderingly): No.
Mrs. Loving (Looking at both of them thoughtfully, half to herself): No—I don’t know why it should. (Slowly) Ten years ago—today—your father and your half-brother died.
Tom: I do remember, now, that you told us it was in October.
Rachel (With a sigh): That explains—today.
Mrs. Loving: Yes, Rachel. (Pauses). Do you know—how they—died?
Tom and Rachel: Why, no.
Mrs. Loving: Did it ever strike you as strange—that they—died—the same day?
Tom: Well, yes.