It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. Yet she held her tongue. “How are ya, buddy? Good job at the concert. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. I do swear. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table.
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