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Show -13- "Yes," she says carefully. He stares at the picture. "Yes," she says again, "you are like him." He tears the picture from the wall and tries to smile. "Don't be foolish." "You're getting close to the end," she says, "like him." "Stop it," he warns. "Like father," she taunts, "like son " He turns and grabs her. "What are you trying to do to me?" he demands. He holds her coarsely, and she sees the shaving cream that is still on his hands smear across her nightgown. "You do hate me, don't you?" "Yes." He is silent. He sits heavily on the edge of the bathtub, hiding his face, foolish with shaving cream. "Why?" he says at last, mechanically. "It is perfectly simple," she says, her voice flat and cold. "For you," he says bitterly. He bends further down on the edge of the tub, and begins, at first in irregular spasms, then uncontrollably and openly, to weep. She sees that he is trying to hide his weeping from her but cannot, and she is suddenly touched by pity for this man, breaking under the knowledge that he must face his own early death alone. She puts her arms around him, but when he lifts his head she sees that his face is deep red, the color of anger and rage. "Get away from me," he growls, "before I hurt you." He stand and pushes her away. "Get away, get away from me," he roars, his face dark with blood. |
