“And admiring them?”
“In a way—yes,” I said.
“And wanting the same kind of death-in-life for your own girl?”
“You must answer that question, yes or no,” she insisted.
“No,” I said.
“And then,” I began again, “there’s the child. What about her? Left motherless.”
“Well, and what about Rose herself?” Mrs. O’Gorman retorted. “She was motherless and fatherless too, and she grew into happiness and became a beautiful woman, thanks in some degree to some one who shall be nameless.”
“But who,” I said, “might possibly be feeling not a little guilty over the way that things are turning out.”
“But who, if he did so,” Mrs. O’Gorman added, “would be a very silly old boy.”