Kabnis: An how would you help me, child, dear sweet little sister?
She moves forward as if to aid him.
Carrie K.: I’m not a child, as I’ve more than once told you, brother Ralph, an as I’ll show you now.
Kabnis: Wait, Carrie. No, thats right. Youre not a child. But twont do t lift me bodily. You dont understand. But its th soul of me that needs th risin.
Carrie K: Youre a bad brother an just wont listen t me when I’m tellin y t go t church.
Kabnis doesnt hear her. He breaks down and talks to himself.
Kabnis: Great God Almighty, a soul like mine cant pin itself onto a wagon wheel an satisfy itself in spinnin round. Iron prongs an hickory sticks, an God knows what all ... all right for Halsey ... use him. Me? I get my life down in this scum-hole. Th old man an me—
Carrie K.: Has he been talkin?
Kabnis: Huh? Who? Him? No. Dont need to. I talk. An when I really talk, it pays th best of them t listen. Th old man is a good listener. He’s deaf; but he’s a good listener. An I can talk t him. Tell him anything.
Carrie K.: He’s deaf an blind, but I reckon he hears, an sees too, from th things I’ve heard.