Bodger fell back into his chair like a crumpling jointed doll, his face shocked and incredulous. "I don't believe it," he said stiffly, pressing his hands upon the chair arms to halt their trembling. "Lloyd, it's not true!"
The bedroom door opened, then, and Andra came out. When Bodger saw her, something inside him cracked, and he suddenly dropped his face into his hands and just groaned. Lloyd was at his side in an instant.
"Dad," he said, gripping the other man's shoulders, "Dad, I had to tell you. I've been entangling myself in so many lies since last night—It was the only thing left to do!"
Bodger looked up, wide-eyed with dismay, and shrugged Lloyd's hands away. "Let me think!" he said, hoarsely. "I have to think! Stanton mustn't find this out. I've already covered up for your idiotic Vote, and for your taking Grace—all right, Andra—up to our Unit last night. There has to be a way to prevent your horrible errors being found out. I'll cover, somehow, Lloyd. If I can find a way, I'll cover up, and—"
"Dad—!"
Something in the young man's tone made Bodger stop his frantic raving. He looked into his son's eyes, and saw the question even before Lloyd asked it.
"Why should you cover up?"
Bodger grabbed at his shattered self-control, and sat up, stiffly. "I—I don't follow you, son."
"I said," Lloyd repeated sadly, "why should you cover up for me? I'll only be hospitalized for Readjustment, won't I?... Won't I!?"
"Lloyd," Bodger said sickly, getting up and clutching his son's hands, "you're over-wrought, right now, you've been under a strain...."