BIGELOW—[Slapping his back.] Buck up! [Then anxiously.] How's Martha?
CURTIS—She's in hell, too—
BIGELOW—[Attempting consolation.] You're surely not worrying, are you? Martha is so strong and healthy there's no doubt of her pulling through in fine shape.
CURTIS—She should never have attempted this. [After a pause.] I've a grudge against you, Big. It was you bringing your children over here that first planted this in her mind.
BIGELOW—[After a pause.] I've guessed you thought that. That's why you haven't noticed me—or them—over here so much lately. I'll confess that I felt you—[Angrily.] And the infernal gossip—I'll admit I thought that you—oh, damn this rotten town, anyway!
CURTIS—[Impatiently.] Oh, for God's sake! [Bitterly.] I didn't want you here to discuss Bridgetown gossip.
BIGELOW—I know, old man, forgive me. [In spite of the closed door one of MARTHA's agonized moans is heard. They both shudder.]
CURTIS—[In a dead, monotonous tone.] She has been moaning like that hour after hour. I shall have those sounds in my ears until the day I die. Nothing can ever make me forget—nothing.
BIGELOW—[Trying to distract him.] Deuce take it, Curt, what's the matter with you? I never thought you'd turn morbid.
CURTIS—[Darkly.] I've changed, Big—I hardly know myself any more.