No, it wasn't that. "She fell down the stairs, and she's lost her unborn baby. And oh, Nora, she's in terrible shape." It was no time to ask questions. Later Nora would learn that Ethel had come back from the lake in one of her irrational frenzies. When dinner time came, there was no sign of Jerry. By nine o'clock, when there was still no Jerry and no phone call from him, Ethel's tormented mind had leaped to the usual baseless conclusion. He had gone off somewhere, and this time he wouldn't be back. Hadn't she said right along that would happen sooner or later? Then, fairly beside herself with anguished fear, she had taken several stiff drinks. Caroline had tried to stop her, had begged her not to do it. Ethel wasn't used to drinking. "You've got to think of Bobby, even if you don't care about yourself. Do you want that sweet child to see his mother drunk?" But Ethel was past knowing what she was doing, past caring about anything except that Jerry was gone. "He's gone, he's gone," she had screamed wildly.
