And so the stream flowed, Barry listening with grave face but making no response.
“And I'm glad you're back, my boy. I'm glad you're back,” said his father, clapping him on the shoulder.
The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. They were having each his own thoughts, and for the first time in their life together, they kept their thoughts to themselves.
“You're going to your office, Dad,” said Barry, when they had cleared away, and set the house in order.
“No, the office is closed, and will be for some time, I imagine. I'm busy with Neil Fraser. I'm acting paymaster, quartermaster, recruiting sergeant, and half a dozen other things.”
“I'll go down with you,” said Barry, as his father rose to go.
His father came back to him, put his hands on his shoulders, and said:
“Barry, I want you to go to bed.”
“Nonsense, dad. I'm all right. I'm going downtown with you.”
“Barry,” said his father, “we have hard times before us, and you must be fit. I ask you to go to bed and sleep there this forenoon. You're half asleep now. This afternoon we shall face up to our job.”