"
"Oh, mamma! Mamma, how I pray you're right."
"You'll thank God for the day that Louis Latz proposed to me. Why, I'd
rather cut off my right hand than marry a man who could ever live to
learn such a--thing about me."
"But it's not fair. We'll have to explain to him, dear, that we hope
you're cured now, but--"
"If you do--if you do--I'll kill myself! I won't live to bear that! You
don't want me cured. You want to get rid of me, to degrade me until I
kill myself! If I was ever anything else than what I am now--to Louis
Latz--anything but his ideal--Alma, you won't tell! Kill me, but don't
tell--don't tell!"
"Why, you know I wouldn't, sweetheart, if it is so terrible to you.
Never."
"Say it again."
"Never."
"As if it hasn't been terrible enough that you should have to know. But
it's over, Alma. Your bad times with me are finished. I'm cured."
There were no words that Miss Samstag could force through the choke of
her tears, so she sat cheek to her mother's cheek, the trembling she
could no longer control racing through her like a chill.
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