take. It 's so
queer--it 's quite impossible!

JOY. He won't let her.

DICK. Won't let her--won't let her? But [Stopping dead, and in a
very different voice.] Oh!

JOY. [Passionately.] Why d' you look at me like that? Why can't
you speak?

[She waits for him to speak, but he does not.]

I'm going to show what he is, so that Mother shan't speak to him
again. I can--can't I--if I tell Uncle Tom?--can't I----?

DICK. But Joy--if your Mother knows a thing like--that----

JOY. She wanted to tell--she begged him--and he would n't.

DICK. But, joy, dear, it means----

JOY. I hate him, I want to make her hate him, and I will.

DICK. But, Joy, dear, don't you see--if your Mother knows a thing
like that, and does n't speak of it, it means that she--it means that
you can't make her hate him--it means----If it were anybody else--
but, well, you can't give your own Mother away!

JOY. How dare you! How dare you! [Turning to the hollow tree.] It
is n't true--Oh! it is n't true!

DICK. [In deep distress.] Joy, dear, I never meant, I didn't
really!

[He tries to pull her hands down from her face.]

JOY. [Suddenly.] Oh! go away, go away!

[MRS. GWYN is seen coming back. JOY springs into the tree.
DICK quickly steals away. MRS. GWYN goes up to the chair and
takes the scarf that she has come for, and is going again when
JOY steals out to her.]

Mother!

[MRS. GWYN stands looking at her with her teeth set on her lower
lip.]

Oh! Mother, it is n't true?

MRS. GWYN. [Very still.] What is n't true?

JOY. That you and he are----

[Searching her Mother's face, which is deadly still. In a
whisper.]

Then it is true. Oh!

MRS. GWYN. That's enough, Joy! What I am is my affair--not yours--
do you understand?

JOY. [Low and fierce.] Yes, I do.

MRS. GWYN. You don't. You're only a child.

JOY. [Passionately.] I understand that you've hurt [She stops.]

MRS. GWYN. Do you mean your Father?

JOY. [Bowing her head.] Yes, and--and me. [She covers her face.]
I'm--I'm ashamed.

MRS. GWYN. I brought you into the world, and you say that to me?
Have I been a bad mother to you?

JOY. [In a smothered voice.] Oh! Mother!

MRS. GWYN. Ashamed? Am I to live all my life like a dead woman
because you're ashamed? Am I to live like the dead because you 're a
child that knows nothing of life? Listen, Joy, you 'd better
understan