BIGELOW--[Ashamed and confused.] I had forgotten-- MARTHA--The years have made me reconciled. They haven't Curt. [She sighs--then turns to BIGELOW with a forced smile.] I suppose it's hard for any of you back here to realize that Curt and I ever had any children. BIGELOW--[After a pause.] How old were they when--? MARTHA--Three years and two--both girls. [She goes on sadly.] We had a nice little house in Goldfield. [Forcing a smile.] We were very respectable home folks then. The wandering came later, after--It was a Sunday in winter when Curt and I had gone visiting some friends. The nurse girl fell asleep--or something--and the children sneaked out in their underclothes and played in the snow. Pneumonia set in--and a week later they were both dead. BIGELOW--[Shocked.] Good heavens! MARTHA--We were real lunatics for a time. And then when we'd calmed down enough to realize--how things stood with us--we swore we'd never have children again--to steal away their memory. It wasn't what you thought--romanticism--that set Curt wandering--and me with him. It was a longing to lose ourselves--to forget. He flung himself with all his power into every new study that interested him. He couldn't keep still, mentally or bodily--and I followed. He needed me--then--so dreadfully! BIGELOW--And is it that keeps driving him on now? MARTHA--Oh, no. He's found himself. His work has taken the place of the children. BIGELOW--And with you, too? MARTHA--[With a wan smile.] Well, I've helped--all I could. His work has me in it, I like to think--and I have him. BIGELOW--[Shaking his head.] I think people are foolish to stand by such an oath as you took--forever. [With a smile.] Children are a great comfort in one's old age, I've tritely found. MARTHA--[Smiling.] Old age! BIGELOW--I'm knocking at the door of fatal forty. MARTHA--[With forced gaiety.] You're not very tactful, I must say. Don't you know I'm thirty-eight? BIGELOW--[Gallantly.] A woman is as old as she looks. You're not thirty yet. MARTHA--[Laughing.] After that nice remark I'll have to forgive you everything, won't I? [LILY JAYSON comes in from the rear. She is a slender, rather pretty girl of twenty-five. The stamp of college student is still very much about her. She rather insists on a superior, intellectual air, is full of nervous, thwarted energy. At the sight of them sitting on the couch together, her eyebrows are raised.] LILY--[Coming into the room--breezily.] Hello, Martha. Hello, Big. [They both get up with answering "Hellos."] I walked right in regardless. Hope I'm not interrupting. MARTHA--Not at all. LILY--[Sitting down by the table as MARTHA and BIGELOW resume their seats on the lounge.] I must say it sounded serious. I heard you tell Big you'd forgive him everything, Martha. [Dryly--with a mocking glance at BIGELOW.] You're letting yourself in for a large proposition.