"I don't know if I should tell you," she said.
"Tell me what, Martha?"
She looked up slowly, scrutinizing his face. "Ken's changed his mind, Nora says. Ken doesn't like the academy. She says he wants to go to medical school."
Old Donegal thought it over, nodded absently. "That's fine. Space-medics get good pay." He watched her carefully.
She lowered her eyes, rubbed at his calluses again. She shook her head slowly. "He doesn't want to go to space."
The clock clicked loudly in the closed room.
"I thought I ought to tell you, so you won't say anything to him about it," she added.
Old Donegal looked grayer than before. After a long silence, he rolled his head away and looked toward the limp curtains.
"Open the window, Martha," he said.
Her tongue clucked faintly as she started to protest, but she said nothing. After frozen seconds, she sighed and went to open it. The curtains billowed, and a babble of conversation blew in from the terrace of the Keith mansion. With the sound came the occasional brassy discord of a musician tuning his instrument. She clutched the window-sash as if she wished to slam it closed again.