Lanny took to being out frequently in the evening; and of course the watchful Esther did not fail to make note of it. Once more, she would say nothing to her stepson but only to his father. Robbie didn't feel the same way about a young man enjoying his evenings, provided he had done his job during the day; but Robbie understood his wife and tried to please her, and said he would speak to the boy.
What he said was: “I hope you're not getting in too deep with that girl, Lanny.”
“Oh, it's quite innocent, I assure you, Robbie. Her mother sits in one room and paints watercolor designs for house decorations; I play the piano and Gracyn dances and her young friends watch. Then we make cheese sandwiches, and twice we've had beer, and felt bohemian, really devilish.”
“Couldn't you do that with some of our own crowd?”
“It just happens that I haven't met any of them who take my music or dancing seriously.”
“They are a rather frozen-up lot, I suppose.”
“The trouble with most of them is they have no conversation.”
Robbie repressed a smile, and asked: “Aren't you ever alone with the girl?”
“I've taken her driving two or three times; that's the only way she'd ever see the country. But we talk about the theater; I've told her books to study, and she has done it. Her whole heart is set on being an actress.”
“It's a dog's life for a woman, son.”