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That's the frightening
part. It isn't only the neuralgia any more. It's just desire. That's
what's so terrible to me, mamma. The way you have been taking it these
last months. Just from--desire."
Mrs. Samstag buried her face, shuddering, down into her hands.
"O God! My own child against me!"
"No, mamma. Why, sweetheart, nobody knows better than I do how sweet and
good you are when you are away from--it. We'll fight it together and
win! I'm not afraid. It's been worse this last month because you've
been nervous, dear. I understand now. You see, I--didn't dream of you
and--Louis Latz. We'll forget--we'll take a little two-room apartment of
our own, darling, and get your mind on housekeeping, and I'll take up
stenography or social ser--"
"What good am I, anyway? No good. In my own way. In my child's way. A
young man like Leo Friedlander crazy to propose and my child can't let
him come to the point because she is afraid to leave her mother. Oh, I
know--I know more than you think I do.


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