"He give me," she said, "the boy!"
"You're crazy about that kid," the man burst out, a violent, disgusted whisper. "You're gone out of your mind."
"No, I ain't," she replied, doggedly. "I'm different since I got him. That's all. And I'd like Dick to know that I look at him different since he died. I can't love Dick. I never could. But I could thank him if he was here. Do you mind what I called the boy? I don't call him Claud now. I call him—Richard. It's all I can do to show Dick that I'm grateful."
The man caught his breath—in angry impatience. "Millie," he warned, "the boy'll grow up."
She put her hands to her eyes.
"He'll grow up and leave you. What you going to do then?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "Just—go along."
"You'll be all alone, Millie."
"He loves me!" she muttered. "He'll never leave me!"
"He's got to, Millie. He's got to be a man. You can't keep him."