Mother was in her room. I gave her the letter. She opened it and took the check out and sat holding it in her hand. I went and got the shovel from the corner and gave her a match. “Come on,” I says. “Get it over with. You’ll be crying in a minute.” She took the match, but she didn’t strike it. She sat there, looking at the check. Just like I said it would be. “I hate to do it,” she says. “To increase your burden by adding Quentin.……” “I guess we’ll get along,” I says. “Come on. Get it over with.”
