"So I thought until this morning," said Helga. "But father tells me that your mother sees signs of dementia still."
"Good heavens!" cried Oscar.
"Everybody appears to have heard of it except you. I thought it was wrong to keep you in the dark, and so I've told you."
"Thanks, Helga, it is good of you, and if poor Thora is still suffering in that way----"
"There can't be a doubt of it, Oscar. She told your mother she wished she could die, and baby with her."
"She must be watched--the child, too. There must be nurses night and day."
"Is that enough, Oscar? You know how cunning people are when they are suffering from dementia. And then a child is such a frail thing--its life might be snuffed out in an instant."
"You mean that baby should be removed?"
"It might be safest--for a time at least. It might come here--I should take the greatest care of it. But it needn't change its nurse--Aunt Margret must come home soon in any case."
"It must be done, Helga. It would be too awful if anything happened to the child. I should go mad."