"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. He threw up his hand, reeled for a moment on his feet, and collapsed upon the floor. The chance it is the same for both. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. ’ ‘It’s immaterial, in any event,’ Roding put in. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. ‘I have Joan to tell me how much I look like Mary. My husband, he is cruel and wicked, and—and entirely undistinguished.
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