He's been dying weeks." "Why didn't you let me know of this ?" Deborah asked gently.
"Because I knew what you'd want to do--take him off to a hospital! And I ain't going to have it! I promised him he could die at home!" "I'm sorry," Deborah answered.

There was a moment's silence, and the baby whimpered in its sleep.

One child had gone to his father's bed and was frowning at his agony as though it were a tiresome sight.
"Are any of them coughing ?" Deborah inquired.
"No," said the woman sharply.
"Yes, they are, two of 'em," John cheerfully corrected her.
"You shut up!" she said to him, and she turned back to Deborah.

"It's my home, I guess, and my family, too.

So what do you think that _you_ can do ?" Deborah looked at her steadily.
"Yes, it's your family," she agreed.