“You’ve seen him?”
“Frequently. I’d about die if I didn’t. He’s my second love—next to you.”
“He hasn’t said anything to me about seeing you.”
“Of course not, you thickhead! I forbade him.”
“Oh.”
There was a pause. Audrey ended it. “I hear your dad has squabbled with your mother. Things are messy at your house. Biff’ll be home in a day or two—in good condition. Sarah’s in the dumps again. Quite a little party. It shows, according to Willie, that your family regrets pushing you off the threshold.”
“I didn’t want to go—entirely. I was just beginning to hope that they were still human. Then—whammo!”
“I know. Biff’s a cad about women, but someday he’ll give his time to some noble, if flashy, cause. Your father is really a good egg. Bank-struck. It’s like being stage-struck—only, with different boards.”
“So your father said.”
She assented with a grim nod. “Oh, he can recognize homely virtue. Just—never achieve it. Too complex. Sarah—I dunno. She’s a gorgeous, miserable creature. She must have been terrific the day she read my diaries—”