'
'I am not asking you to be a mother to him, John.'
'Thank you, my dear.'
She does not know that he is sarcastic again. 'I quite understand that
a man can't think all the time about his son as a mother does.'
'Can't he, Ellen? What makes you so sure of that?'
'I mean that a boy naturally goes to his mother with his troubles rather
than to his father. Rogie tells me everything.'
Mr. Torrance is stung. 'I daresay he might tell me things he wouldn't
tell you.'
She smiles at this. It is very probably sarcasm.
'I want you to be serious just now. Why not show more warmth to him,
John?'
With an unspoken sigh, 'It would terrify him, Ellen. Two men show warmth
to each other! Shame, woman!'
'Two men!' indignantly. 'John, he is only nineteen.'
'That's all,' patting her hand. 'Ellen, it is the great age to be
to-day, nineteen.'
Emma darts in.
'Mother, he has unlocked the door! He is taking a last look at himself
in the mirror before coming down!'
Having made the great announcement, she is off again.
'You won't be sarcastic, John?'
'I give you my word--if you promise not to break down.
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