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 some things. No man in his right mind would hook up to anything as pious as Naomi. . . ." He saw that Philip's head tossed back and his jaw hardened, as if he were going to speak. "Now, don't get mad at your Pa. . . your poor old Pa. . . I know you don't think much of 'im, but he's kind-a proud of you, just the same. And he don't blame you for not living with Naomi. Why, the thought of it makes me kind-a seasick."

Again a silence filled by little Naomi's heartbroken crying.

"Why, she ought to be home now looking after her children instead of gadding about with preachers and such. Your Ma was always pious, too, but she was a good housekeeper. She never allowed religion to interfere with her bein' practical."

Philip, distracted, unhappy, conscience-stricken, and a little frightened at Naomi's queer avoidance of him, was aware, too, that his father was saying one by one things he'd thought himself a hundred times. It occurred to him that Jason wasn't perhaps as empty and cheap as he seemed. It was almost as if an affection were being born out of Jason's hopeless efforts toward an understanding. If only little Naomi would stop squalling. . ..

His father was saying, "No, I'm proud of you, my boy. D'you know why?"

"No."

"Because of the way you stand up to your Ma. It takes a strong man to do that, unless you learn the trick. I've learned the trick. I just let her slide off now like water off a duck's back. I just say, 'Yes, yes,' to her and then do as I damned please. Oh, I