"No, no," said the dowager. "It was a perfect little boy with such lovely little hands and toes. Everything perfect; but his head was too large, dear. It was a question of you or him, and of course Tony insisted that he should be sacrificed."
"Where is he? Tony!"
Her husband came in and knelt by the bed.
"Why did you do that? Why? Why didn't you let me die? He would have been so much better than me. Can't you understand? Can't you understand?"
Everybody had stolen from the room to leave them together; but when he leaned over to kiss her she struck him on the mouth.
"You only wanted me for one thing," she cried.
"Doodles, don't treat me like this. I can't express myself. I never imagined that anything could be so horrible. I was asked to decide. You don't suppose I could have lived with a cursed child who had killed you!"
"How dare you curse him?"
"Dorothy, we'll have another. Don't be so miserable."
Suddenly she felt that nothing mattered.