Don’t be such a hypocrite.
Sylvia.
[Brokenly.] I expected a miracle.
John.
At this time of day?
Sylvia.
For God’s sake have mercy on me! It was your mother who put the idea in my head. Your father received the Communion last night.
John.
You have no charity for human weakness. You were all so terrified that he shouldn’t make an edifying end. As if it mattered if the poor dear’s nerve failed him at the last.
Sylvia.