"Don't dare? What rot! Why shouldn't you dare?"
"Laurie will hate me if I go off with Mother! It doesn't matter how sick I am, he will hate me!"
"Winnie, you're talking the most unmitigated nonsense."
"I'm not, Alice. You don't know. He can't forgive me for wanting to be kind to Mother."
"I haven't noticed any signs of unforgiveness on his part. I admit he acted like a fool on Sunday but I suppose he can't be blamed. Your father's not the easiest person in the world to get on with, himself."
"I know, but you don't understand. Sometimes I think Laurie hates me for being sick. He don't love me any more! I know he don't."
"Laurence hate you for being sick! Good God!" Then Alice added, "You shouldn't talk this way before May, Winnie."
Winnie had her eyes shut. She made a gesture away with her hands. "Go out, May."
May moved into a shadow by the door, but she did not go out.
"I can't bear being sick. It m-m-makes me so old. Papa Farley—that time Papa Farley—that woman. They had a child, M-m-mother told me. Oh, do you suppose Laurence will do like that?"