"If you do—if you do—I'll kill myself! I won't live to bear that! You don't want me cured. You want to get rid of me, to degrade me until I kill myself! If I was ever anything else than what I am now—to Louis Latz—anything but his ideal—Alma, you won't tell! Kill me, but don't tell—don't tell!"
"Why, you know I wouldn't, sweetheart, if it is so terrible to you.
Never."
"Say it again."
"Never."
"As if it hasn't been terrible enough that you should have to know. But it's over, Alma. Your bad times with me are finished. I'm cured."
There were no words that Miss Samstag could force through the choke of her tears, so she sat cheek to her mother's cheek, the trembling she could no longer control racing through her like a chill.
"Oh—how—I hope so!"
"I know so."
"But wait a little while, mamma—just a year."
"No! No!"