"So you don't want to accept anything from Mamma even if she is willing to give?"
"You don't understand, Alice. That very fact makes me even more responsible for my own resolutions." His voice shook.
"Look here, Papa, I always imagined you had sacrificed yourself outright to Mamma's weakness and dependency, and now when you have a chance to get away from her and live with somebody who is younger whom you seem to care for, you actually seem to be dodging the issue just as though you were contented with your situation."
"You must remember that Mrs. Wilson must be considered—that what I selfishly want——" He stopped. Patiently through all these years he had strained forward like an animal pulling a loaded cart and, now the cart was being taken from him, he was disconcerted to find himself still straining forward pulling at nothingness. Bewildered, he tried to save his ideal of himself. "You must remember we have never really considered a divorce possible."
"Well, Papa, of course I can't decide your life for you. If you don't feel that you owe it to your son——" She turned resolutely.
He felt her scorn. He hated her, but he could not bear to have her go. He covered his face.
She walked out.
He could hear her run up the stairs, her bare feet making a soft sound. He wanted to call her back, but he did not know what to say. It was necessary to him to think well of himself.
Mrs. Farley went about her housework with renewed determination. She would speak to no one but Laurence. At the table she served them all, but if there was any general talk she did not hear it.