Duncan left his counter and moved over to that at which Tracey was occupied. His face was entirely serious, his manner deeply sympathetic. "Tracey," he said, dropping a hand on the boy's shoulder, "do you know, nothing in life is harder to bear than not to be understood?"
Tracey wrestled with this for a moment, but it was beyond him.
"Then why the hell don't you talk so's folks'll know what it's about?" he demanded heatedly.
"Because... Hm." Duncan hesitated, with his enigmatic smile. "Well, because the rules don't require it."
"What d'you mean by that?" Tracey exploded.
Nat couldn't explain, so he countered neatly. "This is one of your Angie... evenings, isn't it, Tracey?"
"Yep, but—"
"Well, you hurry along. I'll close up the shop."
Tracey had slammed on his hat and was struggling into his overcoat almost as soon as the words were out of Nat's mouth.
"Kin I?" he cried excitedly.