“I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. Then she sang. ‘Both of them so wise after the event. “Hey, John. ‘I just don’t understand you, Gerald. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. “My parents left for Vail on a plane this morning. They hissed me!” “Beasts!” he muttered.
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