A pause. )

CHRISTINE — Where is Orin? Couldn’t you get leave for him too?

MANNON —(hesitates — then brusquely ) I’ve been keeping it from you. Orin was wounded.

LAVINIA — Wounded! You don’t mean — badly hurt?

CHRISTINE —(half starting to her feet impulsively — with more of angry bitterness than grief ) I knew it! I knew when you forced him into your horrible war —! (then sinking back — tensely ) You needn’t trouble to break the news gradually, Ezra. Orin is dead, isn’t he?

LAVINIA — Don’t say that! It isn’t true, is it, Father?

MANNON —(curtly — a trace of jealousy in his tone ) Of course it isn’t! If your mother would permit me to finish instead of jumping at conclusions about her baby —! (with a grim, proud satisfaction ) He’s no baby now. I’ve made a man of him. He did one of the bravest things I’ve seen in the war. He was wounded in the head — a close shave but it turned out only a scratch. But he got brain fever from the shock. He’s all right now. He was in a rundown condition, they say at the hospital. I never guessed it. Nerves. I wouldn’t notice nerves. He’s always been restless. (half turning to Christine ) He gets that from you.

CHRISTINE — When will he be well enough to come home?

MANNON — Soon. The doctor advised a few more days’ rest. He’s still weak. He was out of his head for a long time. Acted as if he were a little boy again. Seemed to think you were with him. That is, he kept talking to “Mother.”

CHRISTINE —(with a tense intake of breath ) Ah!

LAVINIA —(pityingly — with a tinge of scorn in her voice ) Poor Orin!

MANNON — I don’t want you to baby him when he comes home, Christine. It would be bad for him to get tied to your apron strings again.

CHRISTINE — You needn’t worry. That passed — when he left me. (Another pause. Then Lavinia speaks. )

LAVINIA — How is the trouble with your heart, Father? I’ve been so afraid you might be making it out less serious than it really was to keep us from worrying.

MANNON —(gruffly ) If it was serious, I’d tell you, so you’d be prepared. If you’d seen as much of death as I have in the past four years, you wouldn’t be afraid of it. (suddenly jumping to his feet — brusquely ) Let’s change the subject! I’ve had my fill of death. What I want now is to forget it. (He turns and paces up and down to the right of steps. Lavinia watches him worriedly. ) All I know is the pain is like a knife. It puts me out of commission while it lasts.