"Sammy—you mean it's enlistment!"
Her voice rose in velocity; he could feel her pulse run beneath his fingers.
"It's the best way, ma. The draft is sure to get me. Let me beat it and keep myself home—near you. We might as well face the music, ma. They'll get me one way or another. Let me enlist now, ma. Like a man. Right away. For my country!"
Do you know the eyes of Bellini's "Agony in a Garden"? Can you hear for yourself the note that must have been Cassandra's when she shouted out her forebodings? There were these now in the glance and voice of Mrs. Lipkind as she drew back from him, her face actually seeming to shrivel.
"No, Sammy! No! No! No!"
"Ma—please—"
"You wouldn't! You couldn't! No, Sammy—my son!"
"Ma, for God's sake don't go on so!"
"Then tell me you wouldn't! Against your own flesh and blood! Tell me you wouldn't!"
"No, no, ma! For God's sake, don't take a fit—a stroke—no, no; I wouldn't—I wouldn't!"