Now please keep cool.

If I go to Dwight I become exactly like Mrs.Grewe--and I'd have to give up the children.
"No, it's back to Joe on my knees, to beg him to let me stay right here.
And I'll succeed--I know I will! But won't I be under Fanny's thumb?
And won't I take back Amy's friends?
Like a good repentant scared little girl! And eat their rich meals and chatter as they do, and dance and grow old--and push Joe on to make more money--more and more--so that I can get fat and soft--like the rest of these cats!" Again her face was quivering.

But with an effort controlling herself, she went into the nursery.

And on the floor with her wee son, slowly rolling a big red ball back and forth to each other, soon again she had grown quiet, almost like her natural self.

She took supper alone, and then read a novel, page after page, without comprehending.