"I am afraid it is a final break, father," she said. "And if he
shuts me out I must live my own life. But I am not going to run
away to Aunt Cornelia or Europe. I shall stay here."
He had to be content with that. After all, his own sister--but
he wished it were not Jim Doyle's house. Not that he regarded
Lily's shift toward what he termed Bolshevism very seriously; all
youth had a slant toward socialism, and outgrew it. But he went
away sorely troubled, after a few words with Elinor Doyle alone.
"You don't look unhappy, Nellie."
"Things have been much better the last few years."
"Is he kind to you?"
"Not always, Howard. He doesn't drink now, so that is over. And
I think there are no other women. But when things go wrong I suffer,
of course." She stared past him toward the open window.
"Why don't you leave him?"
"I couldn't go home, Howard. You know what it would be. Worse
than Lily. And I'm too old to start out by myself. My habits are
formed, and besides, I--" She checked herself.
"I could take a house somewhere for both of you, Lily and yourself,"
he said eagerly; "that would be a wonderful way out for everybody.
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