“Anything, Mama, if you’ll just try to help yourself-” “I no longer have the strength-or the will I-can barely make my tongue work even now, when I must. We can be happy again, if you’ll only fight this awful defeat that’s taken you-” “And that’s why you are right to make a fresh beginning. There are no hereditary lords to oppress them-” “In America, common people are not so helpless. “Because I forced us to go to England, where we didn’t belong.” “Mama, Mama, what’s this talk of crime? We did what was necessary.” To forgive you for-for a crime you never committed-”
“-from the first time we entered their house. Only-lately, on this wretched ship, did it come to me that you were right and I was wrong. Worst of all, for a time, I-I hated you for refusing to keep struggling against them. I hated how it all went wrong because of that accursed family. The limp, fevered fingers fluttered over his face, found his mouth to still his words.
But-I know you made the best choice-the new country-that’s what I have been trying to find strength to say before it grew too late.” So is everything I held out as a hope for you. Instead, he stroked her hand, tried to speak in a comforting way: It was a measure of how much he had changed in two years. On his knees, he crawled to the side of the bunk.
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