"You mean you were just sorry for him?" "As I would be for any human being in pain. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. But that explains everything. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. Some automaton within her produced in a quite unfamiliar voice the remark, “They’re playing football. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him.
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