“No, don’t smile—it’s like him. Cry it off your chest.”
2 §
Late—299 was sitting in the bath, smiling through steam and the smoke of his cigarette at his big toe. Raised just above the level of the water, it had a nail blackened by some weight that had dropped on it. He took the coffee-cup from his son’s hand.
“For two years and nine months I’ve been looking forward to this—but it beats the band, Jack.”
“Father—I—ought——”
“Good coffee, tobacco, hot water—greatest blessings earth affords. Half an hour in here, and—spotless, body and soul!”
“Father——!”
“Yes; is there anything you want to add?”
“We’ve—we’ve been here two years.”
“Not so long as I was there. Do you like it?”