Torrance turns on his
son. 'I suppose you have been asking yourself of late, what if you were
to turn out to be a funk!'
'Father, how did you know?'
'I know because you are me. Because ever since there was talk of this
commission I have been thinking and thinking what were you thinking--so
as to help you.'
This itself is a help. Roger's hand--but he withdraws it hurriedly.
'They all seem to be so frightfully brave, father,' he says wistfully.
'I expect, Roger, that the best of them had the same qualms as you
before their first engagement.'
'I--I kind of think, father, that I won't be a funk.'
'I kind of think so too, Roger.' Mr. Torrance forgets himself. 'Mind you
don't be rash, my boy; and for God's sake, keep your head down in the
trenches.'
Roger has caught him out. He points a gay finger at his anxious father.
'You know you laughed at mother for saying that!'
'Did I? Roger, your mother thinks that I have an unfortunate manner with
you.'
The magnanimous Roger says, 'Oh, I don't know. It's just the
father-and-son complication.'
'That is really all it is.
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