Naomi . . . I won't say a word, only don't leave me now after all the years when I'm an old woman."
She saw the stubborn jaw set in a hard line. The sight of it stirred a sudden, turbulent emotion: it was his father's jaw over again, terrifying in its identity. What had she done to deserve such treatment from these two men to whom she had given up all her life without once a thought of herself? She had worked for them, sacrificed. . . .
Philip was saying, "It won't make any difference. Even if you and Naomi never spoke to each other. You'd be hating each other all the time. Don't you see? That's what I can't stand."
She reached over and touched his hand. "Philip . . . once you used to come to me with everything, and now . . . now you treat me like a stranger . . . me, your own mother. Why don't you come to me? I want to share your life, to be a part of it. It's all I live for. You're all I've got."
He felt her trying to capture him once more. What she said was true . . . you couldn't deny it. She had given her whole life to him. Every word she spoke hurt him.
"I don't know, Ma. Nothing has happened except maybe that I'm grown up now. I'm a man. I've got to decide things for myself."
It was that hard, brutal jaw which she couldn't overcome. It had thwarted her always. With Jason, when his jaw was set thus, it was as if his heart had turned to stone.
"Where did you go last night?"
He told her, and the answer frightened her. In the
