ROBERT. (gloomily) We’d all be better off for that matter. (With a sudden exasperation) You tell that mother of yours she’s got to stop saying that Mary’s death was due to a weak constitution inherited from me. (On the verge of tears of weakness) It’s got to stop, I tell you!
RUTH. (sharply) S-h-h! You’ll wake her; and then she’ll nag at me—not you.
ROBERT. (coughs and lies back in his chair weakly—a pause) It’s all because your mother’s down on me for not begging Andy for help.
RUTH. (resentfully) You might have. He’s got plenty.
ROBERT. How can you of all people think of taking money from him?
RUTH. (dully) I don’t see the harm. He’s your own brother.
ROBERT. (shrugging his shoulders) What’s the use of talking to you? Well, I couldn’t. (Proudly) And I’ve managed to keep things going, thank God. You can’t deny that without help I’ve succeeded in—— (He breaks off with a bitter laugh) My God, what am I boasting of? Debts to this one and that, taxes, interest unpaid! I’m a fool! (He lies back in his chair closing his eyes for a moment, then speaks in a low voice) I’ll be frank, Ruth. I’ve been an utter failure, and I’ve dragged you with me. I couldn’t blame you in all justice—for hating me.
RUTH. (without feeling) I don’t hate you. It’s been my fault too, I s’pose.
ROBERT. No. You couldn’t help loving—Andy.
RUTH. (dully) I don’t love anyone.