"Cross my heart."

His touch seemed to set her trembling again, all her illy concealed
emotions rushing up. "I can't stand it! Can't! Can't! Take my life--take
my blood, but don't take my boy--don't take my boy--"

"Mamma, mamma, is that the way you're going to begin all over again,
after your promise?"

She clung to him, heaving against the rising storm of sobs. "I can't
help it--can't! Cut out my heart from me, but let me keep my boy--my
wonderboy--"

"Oughtn't she be ashamed of herself? Just listen to her, Esther! What
will we do with her? Talks like she had a guarantee I wasn't coming
back. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if by spring I wasn't tuning up again
for a coast-to-coast tour--"

"Spring! That talk don't fool me. Without my boy, the springs in my life
are over--"

"Why, ma, you talk like every soldier who goes to war was killed!
There's only the smallest percentage of them die in battle--"

"'Spring,' he says; 'spring'! Crossing the seas from me! To live through
months with that sea between us--my boy maybe shot--my--"

"Mamma, please!"