“Why if there’s a person you like and he doesn’t like.”
“You mean you can’t choose your father,” said Mr. Dosson thoughtfully.
“Of course you can’t.”
“Well then please don’t like any one. But perhaps I should like him,” he added, faithful to his easier philosophy.
“I guess you’d have to,” said Delia.
In the small salle-a-manger, when Gaston went in, Francie was standing by the empty table, and as soon as she saw him she began.
“You can’t say I didn’t tell you I should do something. I did nothing else from the first—I mean but tell you. So you were warned again and again. You knew what to expect.”
“Ah don’t say THAT again; if you knew how it acts on my nerves!” the young man groaned. “You speak as if you had done it on purpose—to carry out your absurd threat.”
“Well, what does it matter when it’s all over?”
“It’s not all over. Would to God it were!”