CURTIS--[Unheeding.] It came home to her then--the undeniable truth. [With a groan.] Isn't it fiendish that I should be the one to add to her torture--in spite of myself--in spite of all my will to conceal it! She will never forgive me, never! And how can I forgive myself? BIGELOW--[Distractedly.] For God's sake, don't think about it! It's absurd--ridiculous! CURTIS--[Growing more calm--in a tone of obsession.] She's guessed it ever since that day when we quarreled--her birthday. Oh, you can have no idea of the misery there has been in our lives since then. You haven't seen or guessed the reason. No one has. It has been--the thought of IT. BIGELOW--Curt! CURTIS--[Unheeding.] For years we had welded our lives together so that we two were sufficient, each to each. There was no room for a third. And it was a fine, free life we had made--a life of new worlds, of discovery, of knowledge invaluable to mankind. Isn't such a life worth all the sacrifice it must entail? BIGELOW--But that life was your life, Curt-- CURTIS--[Vehemently.] No, it was her life, too--her work as well as mine. She had made the life, our life--the work, our work. Had she the right to repudiate what she had built because she suddenly has a fancy for a home, children, a miserable ease! I had thought I was her home, her children. I had tried to make my life worthy of being that to her. And I had failed. I was not enough. BIGELOW--Curt! CURTIS--Oh, I tried to become reconciled. I tried my damnedest. I tried to love this child as I had loved those that died. But I couldn't. And so, this being estranged us. We loved as intensely as ever but IT pushed us apart. I grew to dread the idea of this intruder. She saw this in me. I denied it--but she knew. There was something in each of us the other grew to hate. And still we loved as never before, perhaps, for we grew to pity each other's helplessness. BIGELOW--Curt! Are you sure you ought to tell anyone this? CURTIS--[Waving his remark aside.] One day, when I was trying to imagine myself without her, and finding nothing but hopelessness--yet knowing I must go--a thought suddenly struck me--a horrible but fascinating possibility that had never occurred to me before. [With feverish intensity.] Can you guess what it was? BIGELOW--No. And I think you've done enough morbid raving, if you ask me. CURTIS--The thought that came to me was that if a certain thing happened, Martha could still go with me. And I knew, if it did happen, that she would want to go, that she would fling herself into the spirit of our work to forget, that she would be mine more than ever. BIGELOW--[Afraid to believe the obvious answer.] Curt! CURTIS--Yes. My thought was that the child might be born dead.