‘I knew I should find you still here. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. Forgive me. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. “I am a fool,” he said. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. ‘But then again, possibly not. ” “Wherever you like!” he answered, a little absently.
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