Ellen turned white.
"What do you mean?" she cried furiously.
"I mean—I'm going to have a child."
Ellen stared at her without speaking, her mouth fell open; then her face began working in a curious way.
"I know I been wicked," continued Joanna, in a dull, level voice—"but it's too late to help that now. The only thing now is to do the best I can, and that is to get out of here."
"Do you know what you're talking about?" said Ellen.
"Yes—I know right enough. It's true what I'm telling you. I didn't know for certain till yesterday."
"Are you quite sure?"
"Certain sure."
"But—" Ellen drummed with her fingers on the table, her hands were shaking, her colour came and went.