“I must say it’s all very remarkable ... how Jason’s affairs have turned out,” said Elmer. “I never would have thought it.”
“You never believed in him,” said Emma, with an air of triumph, “and now you see.”
To Philip the whole room, the table, the people about it, the figure of the slattern Essie standing in the doorway, all their petty boasting and piety and lying, became suddenly vulgar and loathsome. And then, almost at once, he became ashamed of himself for being ashamed, for they were his people. He had no others. It was a subtle, sickening sort of torture.
16
Emma was herself forced to go in at last and send away the newspaper man, for Jason would have kept him there the rest of the night, telling a story which became more and more embroidered with each rash recounting. And when, at last, the reporter had gone, the others came in and sat about while Jason continued his talk. But the evening died slowly, perhaps because of Elmer’s suspicions, or Naomi’s curious depression, or Philip’s own disgust and low spirits. Jason found himself talking presently against a curious, foreboding silence, of which he took no notice. Only Emma and Mabelle were still listening.
It was Elmer who at last broke up the party, pushing the rotund and breathless Mabelle before him. In the door Mabelle turned, and, shaking her head a little coquettishly, said, “Well, good-night, Jason. Good-night, Emma. I feel like I was saying ‘good-night’ to a honeymoon couple.” And the bawdy look came into her eyes. “There’ll never be any second honeymoon for Elmer and me. We’ve got our family now and that’s all done.”
Still tittering, she was dragged off by her husband. When she had gone, Jason said, “Mabelle is a cute one, ain’t she, and a funny one too, to be married to a mausoleum like Elmer.”
“Now, Jason, it’s all patched up between you and Elmer. There’s no use beginning all over again.”
Naomi and Philip had put on their wraps, and were standing by the door, when Jason suddenly slapped his son on the back. “We’ve got to get better acquainted, son. You’ll like your Pa when you know him better. Nobody can resist him.” He winked at Emma, who turned crimson. “Ain’t it so, Em. Least of all, the ladies.” And then to Philip again, “I’ll come and see you in the morning.”
Philip turned quickly. “No, I’ll come and fetch you myself. You wouldn’t find the way.”