Still Winnie rocked herself. "Oh, I would rather be dead!" she said.
"Don't say that, Winnie! We mustn't think such thoughts. Aren't we doing everything on earth to make you live? Your father and I want to do everything on earth to make life better and surer and sweeter for you and your babies."
Winnie began to throw herself about in the bed again. "Oh, I'd rather be dead than to be sick and have another baby. I know I'm going to die."
"Have another baby." Mrs. Price did not receive the words. They were strange. They remained outside her.
Then, all at once, without her being aware of the moment, their meaning entered into her and burnt her with terror.
"What do you mean, Winnie? This isn't possible." Mrs. Price seated herself shakily on the bed and took Winnie's struggling hands again. "Ba——This is nonsense, Winnie." She held Winnie's hands firmly. Her own hands were dry and hot.
Mrs. Price felt strange with herself. The words had changed her. She was in a new place.
"How long has this——" She tried to speak. Her throat was dry. She could not go on.
"Oh, don't ask me—six weeks—two months—I don't know!"
"Winnie, are you sure of this?"