Mrs. Starkweather
Madge, I, your mother, implore you, on my bended knees. Give up the papers to your father, and I shall forget all I have heard. Think of the family name. I don't believe it, not a word of it; but think of the shame and disgrace. Think of me. Think of Connie, your sister. Think of Tommy. You'll have your father in a terrible state. And you'll kill me. (Moaning and rolling her head.)
I'm going to be sick. I know I am going to be sick.
Margaret
(Bending over mother and raising her, while Connie comes across stage to help support mother.) Mother, you do not understand. More is at stake than the good name of the family or—(Looking at Rutland.)—God. You speak of Connie and Tommy. There are two millions of Connies and Tommys working as child laborers in the United States to-day. Think of them. And besides, mother, these are all lies you have heard. There is nothing between Mr. Knox and me. He is not my lover. I am not the—the shameful thing—these men have said I am.
Connie
(Appealingly.) Madge.
Margaret
(Appealingly.) Connie. Trust me. I am right. I know I am right.
(Mrs. Starkweather, supported by Connie, moaning incoherently, is led back across stage to chair.)