“Funny John.”
“How is your other hand, the one that was cut?”
“It is better now. But it did hurt.”
“Poor hand. I was so sorry.”
“Were you? That was nice. There was no one who cared.”
“Poor June. But didn’t your Father mind?”
“No, he never would. He is always thinking of himself.”
“Well, he ought to have. It was . . .”
“No, no, he oughtn’t, it wasn’t his fault, he is a genius, you know. Great thoughts he has, not like you and me. Above it all.”
Not like you and me!