I can't never believe that, Mrs. Flamm.
MRS. FLAMM
Whether you believe me or not. Life don't ask us if we want to believe things. An' I feel exactly like you: I can't hardly realise it either. But we have to see how we can reconcile ourselves to it—I made a promise to Rose! 'Tis easy promisin' an' hard keepin' the promise sometimes in this world. But I'll do the best in my power.—Good-bye—I can't expect you to … God must take pity on us. That's all.
AUGUST, deeply moved, grasps the hand which MRS. FLAMM offers him and withdraws in silence.
MRS. FLAMM leans her head far back and, lost in thought, looks up. She sighs twice deeply and with difficulty. FLAMM enters, very pale, looks sidewise at his wife and begins to whistle softly. He opens the book case and pretends to be eagerly hunting for something._
MRS. FLAMM
Yes, yes; there it is—you whistle everything down the wind! But this … this … I wouldn't ha' thought you capable of.
FLAMM swings around, falls silent, and looks straight at her. He lifts both hands slightly and shrugs his shoulders very high. Then, he relaxes all his muscles and gazes simply and without embarrassment—thoughtfully rather than shamefacedly—at the floor.
MRS. FLAMM
You men take these things very lightly! What's to happen now?