“You might lend me a razor. I was shaved this morning with a sort of billhook.”
“I’ll get you one.”
Away from that smiling stranger in the bath, the boy shook himself. He must and would speak out!
When he came back with the shaving gear, his father was lying flat, deeply immersed, with closed eyes. And setting his back against the door, he blurted out: “Nobody knows down here. They think mother’s a widow.”
The eyes opened, the smile resumed control.
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do; I know that Mabel—the girl I’m engaged to—has no suspicion. She’s coming to dinner; so is Roddy Blades—Beryl’s fiancé.”
“Mabel, and Roddy Blades—glad to know their names. Give me that big towel, there’s a good fellow. I’m going to wash my head.”
Handing him the towel, the boy turned. But at the door he stopped. “Father——!”
“Quite. These natural relationships are fixed, beyond redemption.”