MRS. ATKINS. (peremptorily) Wheel me in there this minute. I don’t want him to see me looking a sight. I’ll lay down in the room the other side. You don’t need me now and I’m dead for sleep. (RUTH wheels her mother off right. The noise of the motor grows louder and finally ceases as the car stops on the road before the farmhouse. RUTH returns from the kitchen with a lighted lamp in her hand which she sets on the table beside the other. The sound of footsteps on the path is heard—then a sharp rap on the door. RUTH goes and opens it. ANDREW enters, followed by DOCTOR FAWCETT carrying a small black bag. ANDREW has changed greatly. His face seems to have grown highstrung, hardened by the look of decisiveness which comes from being constantly under a strain where judgments on the spur of the moment are compelled to be accurate. His eyes are keener and more alert. There is even a suggestion of ruthless cunning about them. At present, however, his expression is one of tense anxiety. DOCTOR FAWCETT is a short, dark, middle-aged man with a Vandyke beard. He wears glasses).
RUTH. Hello, Andy! I’ve been waiting——
ANDREW. (kissing her hastily) I got here as soon as I could. (He throws of his cap and heavy overcoat on the table, introducing RUTH and the DOCTOR as he does so. He is dressed in an expensive business suit and appears stouter) My sister-in-law, Mrs. Mayo—Doctor Fawcett. (They bow to each other silently. ANDREW casts a quick glance about the room) Where’s Rob?
RUTH. (pointing) In there.
ANDREW. I’ll take your coat and hat, Doctor. (As he helps the DOCTOR with his things) Is he very bad, Ruth?
RUTH. (dully) He’s been getting weaker.
ANDREW. Damn! This way, Doctor. Bring the lamp, Ruth. (He goes into the bedroom, followed by the DOCTOR and RUTH carrying the clean lamp. RUTH reappears almost immediately closing the door behind her, and goes slowly to the outside door, which she opens, and stands in the doorway looking out. The sound of ANDREW’S and ROBERT’S voices comes from the bedroom. A moment later ANDREW re-enters, closing the door softly. He comes forward and sinks down in the rocker on the right of table, leaning his head on his hand. His face is drawn in a shocked expression of great grief. He sighs heavily, staring mournfully in front of him. RUTH turns and stands watching him. Then she shuts the door and returns to her chair by the stove, turning it so she can face him).
ANDREW. (glancing up quickly—in a harsh voice) How long has this been going on?
RUTH. You mean—how long has he been sick?
ANDREW. (shortly) Of course! What else?