"Shirts. Socks."
Not darned. Must darn today. Alice's stockings. Alice is a hard, selfish girl.
"Tablecloths. Two—two"—murmuring—"what did I say?"
Sacrifice. We must all make sacrifices. The home.
"One, two."
Her heart smoldered damply in its resignation. She squeezed love out of her heart.
Those awful days! Ten years older. People one did not know seemed to seek one accusingly in the street.
Furtively, she recalled the birth of her son, remembrance of a strength that had somehow become weariness. Winnie.
In the dark doorway Winnie appeared in a muslin dress. She was smiling, a little wan. Her hair was dressed high. She looked plaintive yet determined.
"I won't be sick and lie around," she said. "I'm going to help you work."