"Yes I do, I wish I were dead and out of it all!"
"Nonsense—rubbish!"
"You'll be sorry when I am dead!"
He stretched out a plump hand and laid it on her shoulder.
"Go away, James!"
"Oh, all right! Joan, look after your mother, she don't seem well." He left the room, and they heard the front door bang after him.
Mrs. Ogden looked over the table napkin. "Has he gone, Joan?"
"Yes, Mother. Oh, you poor darling!" They clung together.
Mrs. Ogden dried her eyes; then she poured out some coffee and drank it.
"I'm better now, dear." She smiled cheerfully.