"
The son's eyes met his father's freely. There was respect in
them, and affection, but there was something else, too, something
the older man recognized as beyond his control. He spoke
gravely, with a deliberate conviction.
"I owe something to her, too, Dad."
But Gilder would not let the statement go unchallenged. His heavy
voice rang out rebukingly, overtoned with protest.
"What can you owe her?" he demanded indignantly. "She tricked
you into the marriage. Why, legally, it's not even that.
There's been nothing more than a wedding ceremony. The courts
hold that that is only a part of the marriage actually. The fact
that she doesn't receive you makes it simpler, too. It can be
arranged. We must get you out of the scrape."
He turned and went to the desk, as if to sit, but he was halted
by his son's answer, given very gently, yet with a note of
finality that to the father's ear rang like the crack of doom.
"I'm not sure that I want to get out of it, father."
That was all, but those plain words summed the situation, made
the issue a matter not of advice, but of the heart.
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