He thought. And presently he saw.
"You don't mean to say it's—it's another?"
"Of course it is. What else have I been talking about?"
"Are you sure, Vi?"
He was very grave, very gentle.
"Sure? D'you think I wouldn't make sure, when it's what I'm afraid of all the time?"
"Don't you want it? Have you never wanted it?"
"Want it? Want it? I'll hate it if it comes. But it won't come. It sha'n't come. I won't have it. I won't live and have it. I shall die anyway."
"Oh no, you won't," he said.
But she flung herself back and writhed and sobbed again. He sat down and watched with her. In silence and utter hopelessness he watched. Presently she lay motionless, worn out.