And nobody knew--nobody cared.

Even if she broke down, if at last, after all these years, she were to cry, she'd find herself in the lock-up as like as not.
But at the thought of crying it was as though little Lennie leapt in his gran's arms.

Ah, that's what she wants to do, my dove.

Gran wants to cry.

If she could only cry now, cry for a long time, over everything, beginning with her first place and the cruel cook, going on to the doctor's, and then the seven little ones, death of her husband, the children's leaving her, and all the years of misery that led up to Lennie.