Why, mother, what's come over you? You can't be well. Leave father! Why,
it would be terrible! Think of the talk there'd be! Why, it would ruin
father here. He'd never get over it."
She saw then the mistake that she had made. She looked across at him
beseechingly.
"You're right, Falk. I didn't mean that, I don't mean that. But I'm so
unhappy that I don't know what I'm saying. All I want is to be with you.
It wouldn't hurt father if I went up to London with you for a little. What
I really want is a holiday. I could come back after a month or two
refreshed. I'm tired."
Suddenly while she was speaking the ironical contrast hit him. Here was he
amazed at his mother for daring to contemplate a step that would do his
father harm, while he, he who professed to love his father, was about to
do something that would cause the whole town to talk for a year. But that
was different. Surely it was different. He was young and must make his own
life. He must be allowed to marry whom he would. It was not as though he
were intending to ruin the girl....
Nevertheless, this sudden comparison bewildered and shocked him.
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