"Sammy—you 'ain't been—"
"No, no; I haven't."
"You have! I can see it in your face! You've come home with some news to break. You been drafted!"
He held her arms to her sides, still pressing her down to her chair. "I tell you I haven't! Can't you take my word for it?"
"Swear to me, Sammy!"
"All right; I swear."
"Swear to me on your dead father who is an angel in heaven!"
"I swear—thataway."
She was still pressing against her breathing. "You're keeping something back. Sammy, is it that we got mail from Germany? From Aunt Carrie? Bad news—O my God!"
"No! No! Who could I get mail from there any more than you've been getting it for the last two years? Mamma, if you're going to be this excitable and get yourself sick, I won't talk over anything with you. I'll quit."