If he weren’t your son—

Ashamed again.

No, that’s not true! They’re glad to have him, but it’s the special stuff that gets him by. Some of the poems and parodies he’s written are damned good.

Grudgingly again.

Not that they’d ever get him anywhere on the big time.

Hastily.

But he’s certainly made a damned good start.

TYRONE

Yes. He’s made a start. You used to talk about wanting to become a newspaper man but you were never willing to start at the bottom. You expected—

JAMIE

Oh, for Christ’s sake, Papa! Can’t you lay off me!

TYRONE

Stares at him—then looks away—after a pause.

It’s damnable luck Edmund should be sick right now. It couldn’t have come at a worse time for him.

He adds, unable to conceal an almost furtive uneasiness.

Or for your mother. It’s damnable she should have this to upset her, just when she needs peace and freedom from worry. She’s been so well in the two months since she came home.

His voice grows husky and trembles a little.

It’s been heaven to me. This home has been a home again. But I needn’t tell you, Jamie.

His son looks at him, for the first time with an understanding sympathy. It is as if suddenly a deep bond of common feeling existed between them in which their antagonisms could be forgotten.

JAMIE

Almost gently.

I’ve felt the same way, Papa.

TYRONE

Yes, this time you can see how strong and sure of herself she is. She’s a different woman entirely from the other times. She has control of her nerves—or she had until Edmund got sick. Now you can feel her growing tense and frightened underneath. I wish to God we could keep the truth from her, but we can’t if he has to be sent to a sanatorium. What makes it worse is her father died of consumption. She worshiped him and she’s never forgotten. Yes, it will be hard for her. But she can do it! She has the will power now! We must help her, Jamie, in every way we can!

JAMIE

Moved.

Of course, Papa.

Hesitantly.

Outside of nerves, she seems perfectly all right this morning.

TYRONE

With hearty confidence now.

Never better. She’s full of fun and mischief.

Suddenly he frowns at Jamie suspiciously.

Why do you say, seems? Why shouldn’t she be all right? What the hell do you mean?

JAMIE

Don’t start jumping down my throat! God, Papa, this ought to be one thing we can talk over frankly without a battle.

TYRONE

I’m sorry, Jamie.

Tensely.

But go on and tell me—

JAMIE

There’s nothing to tell. I was all wrong. It’s just that last night—Well, you know how it is, I can’t forget the past. I can’t help being suspicious. Any more than you can.

Bitterly.

That’s the hell of it. And it makes it hell for Mama! She watches us watching her—

TYRONE

Sadly.

I know.

Tensely.

Well, what was it? Can’t you speak out?

JAMIE

Nothing, I tell you. Just my damned foolishness. Around three o’clock this morning, I woke up and heard her moving around in the spare room. Then she went to the bathroom. I pretended to be asleep. She stopped in the hall to listen, as if she wanted to make sure I was.

TYRONE

With forced scorn.

For God’s sake, is that all? She told me herself the foghorn kept her awake all night, and every night since Edmund’s been sick she’s been up and down, going to his room to see how he was.

JAMIE

Eagerly.

Yes, that’s right, she did stop to listen outside his room.

Hesitantly again.

It was her being in the spare room that scared me.