For a moment his face lost its calm and I had a glimpse of the agonizing road he was climbing toward adjustment. It shocked me and I was ashamed of my slip. I tried to change the subject. He stopped me.
"It's all right, Kitten," he smiled. "You haven't done anything wrong. These things have to be faced. The house does look like the old place in Islip."
"You see it?"
"I feel it." He was silent for a moment. "It's a funny thing. I spent half my life running away from that clam-shack, and here I am right back in it again."
"Any idea when you'll get this place finished?" I asked, still trying to change the subject. This time I succeeded.
"Who knows?" Jake said. "There's no rush."
"Don't those letters in the paper bother you?"
"Hell no!" He laughed. "You've seen Gabby's plans. You know how beautiful the house'll be when we're finished. What's the hurry?"
"Your neighbors'd like you to hurry."
"Squares!" he grunted. "They're just like the noodnicks on The Rock, Kitten. You find them everywhere. Rush. Rush. Rush. Nobody wants to work for the work's sake. They want it done overnight so they can have the result quick. But it's the work that's the fun. I finally found that out. Nobody's going to hustle me into rushing through the best part."