"You love Mamma anyway, don't you?"
"Yes," May said. There were bubbles of saliva on her lips because she would not take her finger away from her mouth.
"You don't think I'm selfish, May?" Winnie shook May a little, then held the child to her. A shudder ran like a live, uncontrolled thing between them.
May was ashamed of the shudder as if it had been her fault. Winnie drew away and stared at her daughter. Winnie's eyes were soft and wistful with hurt, but underneath their darkness as under a cloud May saw something she was afraid of. It was angry with itself and demanded that she give it something. She did not know what to give it. To escape it she wanted to cry.
Winnie wanted to make May cry but hated her for crying.
"You must love me, May! I'm your mamma! You must love me!"
"I do," May said. Her eyes were black with tears, but because she wanted to cry she could not keep her lips from smiling a little.
"As well as you love papa?"
May felt accused of something. She could not make herself speak. She was sorry and wanted her mother to strike her.
"Then you love Papa best? Oh, May, that's cruel! You mustn't love him best!" Winnie's excited manner was contagious. May did not know how to explain what was the matter and suddenly burst into tears. Winnie moved back again and watched the little girl with her arm over her face, crying.