“Mother’s been wondering when you’d come back. She needs you.”
“She’ll have to go on needing me.”
“Aren’t you—”
“I’ve got a job in the shoe factory.”
Wint said: “Oh!” He was disturbed and uncertain, puzzled by Hetty’s attitude. He asked: “Is the.... Did you....”
“The baby?” said Hetty listlessly. “Oh, he died.” There was dead agony in her tone, so that Wint ached for her.
“I’m sorry,” he told her.
“That’s all right. I can stand it.”
He asked: “Did you need any money? The check I gave you never came through the bank.”
“I lost it,” she said.