She was aware of a feeling of pride in him that night when she and Bill left him staring at the television set. He had promised faithfully to go to bed at 9:30 and as she kissed him she said, "Don't forget to have a glass of milk and some jam and bread."
"And don't forget to go to bed at nine-thirty," growled Bill.
"He won't forget," said Carrie. "He promised. Goodnight, dear."
As he closed the door behind them Bill said, "Bet he stays up till ten at least."
"You don't appreciate him," replied Carrie. "He's an extraordinary boy."
"No different from any other kid—except that he's ours."
"He's very much different. I'm afraid you're not very perceptive about these things."
Bill growled again, something unintelligible this time, and the conversation died down. The romance is out of our marriage, thought Carrie. A husband like Bill is never very polite. Except, of course, to other men's wives. He takes me for granted, just as he takes his children.
Bet he won't behave to the others tonight as casually as he behaves to me. I remember that time Mrs. Gamber was over at the Munros'. You would have thought that woman was a poor delicate fragile little flower who had to be tenderly cared for. Whereas we all know she has the strength of a horse. Looks a little like one too. What any man can see in her....
"Why, hello, Mrs. Gamber," she said as they entered the Munro house. "I was hoping so much that we'd find you and your husband here again this evening. Clara said that you were afraid you wouldn't be able to get out. How is little Elsie?"