ESTHER—[Pityingly.] Curt, dear, we don't think anything except what you've made us think with your crazy carrying-on.
CURTIS—[Looking from one to the other of them.] Yes—all of you—it's on your faces. [His eyes fix themselves on his aunt.] No, you don't—you don't—
MRS. DAVIDSON—I? Don't what, Curtis? My, how sick you look, poor boy!
CURTIS—You—don't believe—this child—
MRS. DAVIDSON—He's the sweetest baby I ever saw [proudly] and Jayson right to the tips of his toes.
CURTIS—Ah, I know you—[Looking around at the others with loathing and hatred.] But look at them—[With a burst of fierce determination.] Wait! I'll give you the only answer—[He dashes for the door in rear, shakes off his father and DICK, who try to stop him, and then is heard bounding up the stairs in hall. DICK runs after him, JAYSON as far as the doorway. ESTHER gives a stifled scream. There is a tense pause. Then DICK reappears.]
DICK—It's all right. I saw him go in.
JAYSON—[Frightenedly.] But—good God—he's liable—why didn't you follow him?
DICK—The doctor and nurse are there. They would have called out, wouldn't they, if—
MRS. DAVIDSON—[Getting angrier and angrier as her puzzlement has grown greater—in a stern tone.] I understand less and less of this. Where has Curtis gone? Why did he act so sick? What is the matter with all of you?