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Roy Glashan's Library
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Liberty, 17 October 1936, with "Peace Without Women"
What happens to fathers who have no sons to guide them?
Here's the gay story of one who had.
DECORATION DAY out on the roof terrace. Not yet warm the enough to breakfast, but the French windows could be opened and the sun was gilding two rectangles on the parquet floor. Over the parapet of the terrace the broad expanse of the East River paled in the excessive brightness. The coffee was exactly right. Lexie Folsom lit a cigarette and regarded his father. They sat cater-cornered at the table. Garth Folsom had stood his newspaper against a still-life arrangement of water bottle, fruit dish, and rose bowl, and was reading it while he pushed toast into his mouth from the other side. He was wearing a dressing gown of blue-and-orange brocade with a cobalt-blue scarf around his neck. It was only on a holiday that a banker could indulge his love of strong color.
And of course it suited him; the dark hair, crisp as a boy's; the ruddy unlined face; the straight nose and the resolute gaze at the newspaper. He didn't look within ten years of his age, which was forty-eight. With his vigor and ruthlessness he was like a Florentine in his brocaded gown. And he hung together; there were no weakening contradictions in his character. Lexie felt an aesthetic satisfaction in contemplating his father.
Garth glanced up suddenly. "What's the joke?"
"No joke," said Lexie. "Just a sense of well-being."
Garth looked out of the window. "Nice day!" he grunted, and returned, immediately, to the newspaper.
"Remember the crumby furnished flat on Trent Street in Pittsburgh?" said Lexie. "Mission furniture and sofa cushions with frills. Your salary was forty dollars a week, and I went to the public school around the corner. Lord! How I hated it!"
"Did you?" said Garth. "Such a poker-faced kid. I never knew what was stewing in your skull. Why bring that up?"
"I like to remember that foul joint now. It puts an edge on this."
Garth let the newspaper slide. "This is pretty good!" he said, stretching. He sat up and glanced at the empty chair opposite him, and his eyes widened. "All it needs to make it perfect—"
"Oh, for gosh sake!" interrupted Lexie, laughing.
Garth laughed too, but he continued to look at the chair dreamily. He made passes with his hand to express curves. "Lovely, graceful, delicate," he murmured; "in a delicious lacy negligée—"
"Lace is not worn," said Lexie.
"How do you know? I don't care whether it is or not. There is nothing so beautiful as a round arm reaching out of a lacy sleeve to hand you something."
"More often it reaches out palm up!"
"What! Cynical? At your age?"
"I was only thinking of peace. Masculine peace like this on a holiday morning. Would it be possible with a woman in the house?"
"So you think woman's place is outside the home," said Garth, laughing. He set up his newspaper again.
Lexie studied him covertly. Was he only speaking generally or was there a new one? Certainly the affair with Mrs. Wintringham had run its course, and he hadn't seen Margaret Thornbury for ten days. Effie Grier was still dangerous, but she was in Hollywood at present, and Lexie hoped she'd stay there. It was only to be expected in the full-blooded Renaissance type, of course. Always falling for a woman! It was all right as long as she didn't get her hooks into him. They were all angling for Garth. And he never learned anything from past experience. That was where his hundred-per-cent masculinity betrayed him. A man had to have a bit of the woman in him before he could cope with the sex.
GARTH needed to be married. Lexie had faced that out with himself. But not to the sort of woman he picked for himself. Lord! Why couldn't he see what was happening to his married friends? Occasionally the right sort of woman turned up, and once or twice Lexie had even maneuvered to bring such a one to his father's attention. But she always kept her eyes down, waited to be courted, and Garth never noticed her. Whereas a woman who knew the power of her eyes and used it unscrupulously could always get him going. It was a nightmare.
Garth glanced at his watch. "Time for me to dress soon," he said.
"What's the program?" asked Lexie.
"Thought I'd run up to Sleepy Hollow," said Garth casually—too casually to Lexie's attentive ear. "The links will be in prime condition."
"Home to dinner?"
"No. I'll take a bag and dine at the club. They're having a dance tonight."
He has a guilty look, thought Lexie. There is a new one. I must look into this.
Garth saved him the trouble. "Lily Beddowe's coming to pick me up at eleven thirty," he said self-consciously. "She has a new convertible coupé. Her latest toy."
To Lexie it was like the crashing of an alarm signal. Lily Beddowe! The most dangerous one of all! And he had been caught napping! Lily Beddowe—who as a young girl had married a rich old man, and, when he died, got herself a richer one and divorced him! And now twirling the rope for his dad!
He stalled with a glad smile. "Coming here?"
"You like her?" said Garth, gratified.
That scared Lexie more. Garth thought it important that he should like her. He had to answer instantly and at the same time think ahead. How far had it gone? He said: "Like her? Would you ask a man if he 'liked' the Jungfrau at sunrise? She is magnificent!" Judging from his expression, Garth did not consider the comparison a happy one.
"You're a brave man," Lexie went on, grinning idiotically. "Trusting yourself for an entire day to La Beddowe! Lunch, the links, dinner, and dancing!"
"No danger," said Garth, laughing. "I'm case-hardened."
Overconfident! thought Lexie with a sinking heart. He said: "Of course she's out to marry you."
"Nonsense!"
"All the unattached women in her set would like to marry you. The beautiful buccaneer could never refuse such a challenge."
"Buccaneer?" said Garth, running up his eyebrows.
"Wouldn't you say that was her type?" said Lexie. "She has already towed two rich galleons into port."
"Her first husband died," said Garth.
"Sure; no fault of hers," said Lexie, grinning.
"Well, it takes two to make a marriage," said Garth.
"You never could get a woman to believe that," said Lexie.
"Women regard marriage as their game, and us men as mere pawns to be shifted round on the board."
Garth looked out of the window. "You—you said you liked her," he remarked.
"I do," said Lexie. "She's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. She puts on a grand show—"
"But what?" demanded Garth.
"Well, I'd hate to see her marry a father of mine."
"Why? Not that there's any chance of it, but I'm curious to know."
"As soon as she had you secured under hatches, she'd sail off in search of new conquests. It's the nature of a buccaneer. I've heard you say yourself that the only way to keep 'em interested is not to marry 'em."
Garth grinned suddenly. "Did I say that?"
Lexie released a breath of relief. Having won his point, he made a feint of retreating. "Honest, dad, are you serious about this? Lord! I'd sooner bite off my tongue than—"
"God forbid!" said Garth. "I'm not going to marry anybody."
An item in the newspaper caught his eye.
Technically Lexie had won the skirmish, but he wasn't taking any bows for it. Lunch, the links, dinner, and dancing! Lily Beddowe knew what she was about. And Garth was so unwary he would march right into a trap with flags waving. What was to be done? One word too much would only hasten the catastrophe.
Garth asked: "What are you doing today?"
"Going up to Jack Blaine's."
Garth shook his head. "Jack Blaine! That dry little stick!"
"We're writing a play together."
"Writing a play! And it's May and a holiday, and you're twenty-four years old!"
"Well, sticks must be true to themselves."
"You're not a stick! Your mother's son and mine couldn't be. This is just a fixation. Why don't you find yourself a girl?"
"Where?" asked Lexie, looking around the room and under the table.
"Don't be a clown! Seriously, Lex, have you never—Of course it's none of my business, but I'm interested. Have you never—"
"Tested my manhood?" said Lexie, grinning. "No."
"Oh, Lord! That's not right," said Garth with so comical a look of concern that Lexie went off into a peal of laughter. "Twenty-four! Why, before I was twenty—well, never mind!"
"What am I going to do about it?"
Garth began to laugh too. "Go ahead! Pull my leg! I suppose that's what fathers are for. Just the same, you ought to go out more, Lex. You don't care much for my crowd. Well, there are others. My crowd happens to be the most conspicuous, but it's not necessarily the best society. I don't kid myself. Perhaps you can have more fun when the spotlight isn't trained on you."
"I don't like a crowd," said Lexie—"any crowd."
"You've got to know a crowd in order to give yourself a choice of individuals." Garth got up. "Got to hustle now." He hesitated, glancing at Lexie almost shyly. "Look, Lex. Come on up to Sleepy Hollow this evening. You and me ought to be seen around together more. All kinds of people come to a club. Lily knows 'em. She'll introduce you. Come to dinner."
Lexie, pleased to the marrow, answered casually: "Sure, I'll come. But not to dinner. I'm not going to make a third at your table. I'll be up right after dinner."
"Good boy!" Garth strode out of the room whistling. He left Lexie with plenty to mull over in his mind.
HALF an hour later Lily Beddowe entered the living room with a smile. Instantly Lexie's heart began to race. The Enemy! And so good to look at that he was beaten before the battle! Must make a stand against her. She was dressed as simply as a child—a deceitful simplicity, because there was an electrical quality in her glance that revealed the victorious woman.
Her smile thinned a little when she saw that Lexie was alone in the room. "Where's Garth?"
"Sorry. Still dressing," he said. "We loafed over breakfast."
She was a tall woman with flesh both fresh and firm. The chiffon dress was designed to reveal its quality. When she came close to Lexie it made him a little dizzy. She treated him as a small boy to whom one must be polite.
"You and Garth are really great pals, aren't you?"
"Inseparable!"
She wandered around the room examining everything. Each time she passed a mirror she looked in it—not with a smirk of gratified vanity, but detached and critical like a good general overlooking the disposition of his forces. Thirty-six, Lexie decided, but Time's finger had not yet left a smudge. Or if it bad, she'd erased it.
When Garth entered the room she swam toward him all softness and lusciousness. They did not kiss, but she snuggled a little, and Lexie was stung with jealousy of his handsome father. Funny what contradictory feelings a man could harbor all at the same time.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," said Garth.
"Oh, that's all right," she said. "Lexie was entertaining me."
"Hm," said Garth with an uneasy glance at his son. "What were you talking about?"
"You!" said Lily.
Garth hastily changed the subject. "How's the new car?"
"It's a duck! You should see how it leaps ahead of traffic when the light changes. I can scarcely wait until we get up into the country where I can let it out."
"A new car?" said Lexie. "Don't you have to hold it down in the beginning?"
"Not a Du Flon," said Lily kindly. "They're so beautifully synchronized you can let them go from the start."
Lexie thought: God help my wandering dad tonight!
AS soon as they were out of the apartment he went to the telephone—but not to call up Jack Blaine. He wanted ammunition and his great-aunt, Mrs. Eversley, was the one to furnish it. He angled for an invitation to lunch, and it was not difficult to land.
Over the chicken timbales she gave him an earful.
"Lily Beddowe!" she said. "Dear, dear! She was the most beautiful girl of her season! Lily Ruggles she was then. Good blood on both sides but not a penny. Gibson drew her, and dear old Perry Gore christened her the Sapphire. From the color of her eyes. She was a sensation!
"But she had a good hard head, that girl. Married old Lewis Calder. Bless my soul! Lewis must have been thirty years older than Lily Ruggles. He'd made his money out of wrecking street railways. At least that's what they said. Let them go to smash, you know, and emerged richer than ever.
"He cut up for over twenty million they say, but of course he had a lot of children. However, he left Lily a million free and clear, and three million more in trust with the proviso that it was to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art if she married again. They say she went through her million like mites through cheese, and of course when she married Winston Beddowe she lost the trust fund. But as Winston was worth near sixty million in New York real estate inherited from the old admiral, and no encumbrances, Lily thought she should worry!
"She divorced Winston Beddowe seven years ago. Of course I don't know how much she got out of him in alimony, but it was a thumping big sum. Have you ever seen Winston Beddowe? Looks like a mute at a funeral. A year later he married a Mrs. Ockley from Georgia. A woman of no family. Widow with a grown daughter who calls herself Miss Beddowe now.
"The present Mrs. Beddowe is a very plain woman. Perhaps her husband reminds her of it when he's in a pet. Anyhow, she cannot forgive her predecessor for being beautiful. Her hatred of Lily is the ruling passion of her life. Also of her daughter's. They consider that Lily is robbing them of what is rightfully theirs. And what do you think, my dear? I'm told that they have been making up to the judge who signed the order for Lily's alimony. His name is Featherstone.
"They have him to visit, and of course the Winston Beddowes are great people and it flatters a mere judge to be asked to stay at their house. And they have already got him to say publicly that he doesn't consider that any award of alimony should be perpetual, and that he for his part is prepared to cancel any order that he has issued in the past, should circumstances justify it. And that's the whip that the present Mrs. Beddowe cracks over Lily Beddowe's head. It's quite a story, isn't it?"
"Most interesting," said Lexie.
IT was near ten when he arrived at the Sleepy Hollow Club. Dancing had commenced, but Garth and Lily were not in the ballroom, nor could he find them in any of the other rooms. He side-stepped the anxious girls who had come with poppa and mama on the chance of picking up a date. His anxiety grew. Finally a servant told him that Mr. Folsom and Mrs. Beddowe had dined at the club and had afterward gone out for a spin in Mrs. Beddowe's car, leaving word that they'd be back for the dancing.
Time passed and his anxieties mushroomed out. He moved through the rooms, hating everything, cursing himself now for having declined Garth's invitation to dine. Delicacy had no place in war to the knife. Meeting one of his father's friends who was somewhat advanced in his drinking, Lexie accompanied him into the taproom.
"Devilishly pretty woman, Lexie; devilish pretty! I mean Lily Beddowe. Saw old Garth dining with her. Hope there's nothing serious in it. Looks bad, you know, dining alone together like that. Good Lord! Wouldn't it be terrible if old Garth married her? What I mean is, she's too pretty, if you know what I mean. The responsibility is too great for any one man."
While he maundered on there was a sudden stir in the entrance hall outside. Several men went to the door to see what was the matter. Lexie paid no attention until word came back, spreading from table to table.
"What's the matter?... Motor smash... Who is it?... Garth Folsom." He sprang up, knocking his chair over backward, and ran out.
IN the hall a dramatic sight: Garth striding in with the limp figure of Lily in his arms, blood running down one side of his grim face. Lily's beauty was unmarred, but there were cuts on her arms, and her pretty evening dress was torn. Lexie's heart contracted painfully, then swelled in relief. Garth wasn't hurt if he could carry her like that. Lily was no sylph.
To those who pressed forward to relieve him of his burden Garth gave a gruff refusal. He strode on to the stairs. "Nothing serious," he was saying. "We came back under our own power. She has fainted from shock, that's all. Oh, there you are, Lex! Come upstairs."
Lexie followed them. Lily was carried into a room and laid on the bed. Doctor, nurse, first-aid kit—the club was provided with everything. Garth was led into an adjoining room. His shirt was gaudily patterned with his or Lily's blood. Lexie pulled it over his head and the doctor presently came in to dress his wound.
"Just a superficial cut," he said. "No stitches necessary. Surgeon's tape will do the trick."
"And Mrs. Beddowe?" asked Garth.
"She's all right."
While the doctor worked on his face Garth described to Lexie what had happened. "We were doing seventy or better on a straight stretch of the Tarrytown road. I warned Lily, but she was drunk with speed. There was a turn to the left and she couldn't make it. Crashed through a fence. Grand car. Stayed top side up. The windshield cut us."
"Lucky Lily's face escaped," said Lexie.
"I leaned over to grab the wheel," said Garth.
MEANWHILE his tuxedo had been whisked away by a servant to be sponged and pressed. Lexie went to try to borrow shirt, collar, and tie from some member who lived in the club. He procured these articles without difficulty, and in half an hour Garth was arrayed again.
The nurse came bustling in from next door. "Mrs. Beddowe is asking for you, Mr. Folsom... Oh, quite all right! Says she wants to dance as soon as her dress gets mended." Garth went to obey the summons. "See you downstairs," he said over his shoulder to Lexie.
Lexie slowly descended. Now that his anxiety was relieved his heart was sinking like a piece of waterlogged wood. God was fighting on Lily's side! At the bottom of the stairs he was assailed with questions. Over and over he had to tell the story of the accident.
Breaking away, he went outside to think things over. Useless. Once the fatal words were spoken the matter was out of his hands. What was happening upstairs? He went in again. Garth and Lily had not yet appeared. More people pushed up with the same fool questions—not that they gave a damn; they only wanted to get in it. He went into the bar and took a stiff drink. What was happening upstairs?
After a long time the sound of hand clapping drew him out into the hall again. Garth and Lily were coming down the stairs arm in arm. A glance told Lexie that the worst had happened. The fatal bond of a shared danger! Lily's face wore its softest smile—soft and triumphant! She hung on Garth's arm and looked up in his face adoringly.
Lexie met them at the foot of the stairs. Lily slipped her free hand under his arm and pressed it. "Darling Lexie!" she whispered.
He was tempted to answer, "Yes, darling mother!" but resisted it. The fragrance, the touch of her made his head reel slightly. Witch! he thought. Linked together, they proceeded through the corridor. Lexie thought: Garth will never be able to get out of it after a public recognition like this! Lily was whispering in his ear: "It was so sweet of you to come up tonight. I expect you gave up your own plans. Just for us!" He was perfectly well aware that he was being taken into camp, but his arm tingled where her hand lay upon it.
The music was playing. When they reached the ballroom door Lily said to Garth: "Let's take a turn around the room to show everybody that we're all right." Lexie thought: To show everybody that I've landed you, you mean!
They danced away. Every eye followed them and he could read the lips saying: "What a handsome pair!"
When they had made a circuit of the room the music signed off. Picking up Lexie at the door, they went on through the corridor and dropped into chairs on a screened veranda at the end. Conversation did not prosper. Garth was grim and self-conscious under his son's eye; Lily cool. Having popped a sweet into the child's mouth, she was now intimating that he had better run along. Lexie stayed.
"Don't you know any girls here?" said Lily.
"Plenty of them. But I'd rather sit and look at you."
"Sweet of you!"
When the music started again he asked if she would dance. "Charmed!" she said, rising at once. "But only a turn or two, darling. I still feel a speck shaky."
GARTH accompanied them to the door of the dancing room and went on—from the look in his eye, bound for the bar, Lexie guessed. They danced. Lily was the same height as himself. Her face was very near his. How delicious her breathing! His head began to go round again. Hold everything! he said to himself. This is no time for dallying. When they had made two circuits of the room he said to her: "Let's go outside for awhile."
"Love to! But Garth?"
"He's nailed to the bar."
"I'm so thinly dressed."
"My car is parked right close in the drive. I'll wrap you up."
"Just for five minutes, then."
When he had wrapped her in his overcoat Lily said: "I've got something to tell you, darling. I want you to be the first to hear it. Garth and I are going to be married."
"How wonderful!" breathed Lexie. "I'll be so proud of you!"
Apparently she didn't quite care for that. "We'll be like brother and sister!" she said quickly.
"Think of having you in the home!" he murmured.
"Will you be living with us?" she asked.
"Not of my own choice, darling. All depends on dad. My salary down at the bank wouldn't pay my bar bill."
"A man wants to be independent," said Lily. "Don't you worry. I'll soon bring Garth to see it."
Lexie thought: Thank you for nothing! He said: "Does brother rate a kiss?"
"Not when we're alone, darling. Any other time."
He took it anyhow. She didn't mind. "You're as generous as you are lovely!" he murmured. "You'll be giving up so much!"
"What do you mean, giving up?"
"Your liberty, beautiful one!"
"Oh, that! That's Victorian. Nowadays marriage frees a woman."
"Not my father's wife. He's primitive man. Medieval."
"I don't find him so."
LEXIE laughed indulgently. "Bless your heart, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth now! He's holding the handcuffs behind his back. But once he is sure of you! Dad is absolutely ruthless; with him it's rule or ruin."
Lily laughed delicately.
"You don't believe me?"
"Certainly I believe you. But I'm not intimidated."
"Oh, well, if you love him I suppose it will be a pleasure to give in to him in everything. I've been giving in to him all my life and I'm crazy about him."
"Hardly the same thing," she murmured.
"You mean you will have a whip of your own to crack?"
"Don't be coarse, darling. I mean it isn't the intensely masculine man who is the most difficult to manage."
Lexie thought: My poor dad! He said: "Still, it must be pretty awkward living with a primitive man. Dad is incapable of accepting the modern theory of marriage. If another man looked at you covetously he'd be quite capable of killing him. And you too."
"How thrilling!" she murmured.
Lexie thought gloomily: I'm taking the wrong line! He made a fresh start: "I was really thinking of material things when I spoke of how much you'd be giving up. You could marry anybody."
"Well, why not Garth?" Lexie could hear the smile in her voice.
"He's not a rich man."
"He's a leader."
"Oh, as president of the Atlantic National he holds down one of the biggest jobs in the country. But it's only a job. Not much security in a job. He has no private fortune."
"None at all?"
"All wiped out in 'twenty-nine."
"But what a job!" she murmured. "How much does he get?"
"A hundred and fifteen thousand."
"Is that all?"
"They had to take a big cut after the Congressional investigation."
"Well, anyhow, such ability as Garth's is better than a fortune. Nothing can stop him."
"Sure! If only he wasn't so darn pigheaded! After all, the old geezers who own the stock call the tune. Garth could be fired tomorrow."
"They couldn't replace him."
"Certainly they couldn't. But there's this theory in the Street, that if you can swing a big enough capital you don't have to hire brains."
"How ridiculous!"
"Absolutely! But that's what the big Gees think, not having any brains themselves. It's this proposed merger between the Atlantic National and the Hamilton that worries me."
"What's that?" asked Lily sharply.
Lexie grinned in the dark.
"I'm afraid it's inevitable," he answered in a gloomy voice. "You see, the Hamilton is the second largest bank in the whole country, and the Atlantic is the third largest. If they combined they would be first by a couple of hundred millions, and that appeals to the vanity of everybody concerned."
"Well, Garth would be the logical president of the combined bank. Pennington of the Hamilton is just a stuffed shirt."
"Sure, darling, everybody knows that. But Pennington, whatever may be under his shirt, is the brother-in-law of the Terwilligers, and the Terwilligers will hold stock control. All we underlings in the bank know that Pennington is slated for the presidency of the greater Hamilton. Such information seeps down to us through cracks in the concrete."
"Garth would never submit!"
"What could he do about it? He owns no stock."
"What does he say about it?"
"Nothing. He's playing an ostrich role. Refuses to admit the possibility of such a thing. Of course they'll offer him a smaller job, and of course he'll tell them what they can do with it. There isn't a job in New York that he could take without losing
"What will he do, then?"
"Get out of New York. Dad's a simple man; that's his strength. He often says nothing would suit him better than to go out in the sticks and start over. And that's what he'll do—Tulsa or Pocatello, or Skagway, or some such place."
He felt a little shiver run through Lily. "Cold?" he asked.
"A little."
"Well, anyhow, you're not exactly a pauper," he said. "You could help."
Lily said nothing.
"It's so very nice to be able to talk to you like one of the family. You inherited a fortune from Mr. Calder, didn't you? And Winston Beddowe must have come across handsomely."
Silence beside him.
"I hope you got it down on the nail from Beddowe."
"Why?"
"Alimony is so damned uncertain. Any judge who grants alimony can always change his mind later."
A long silence.
"Oh well," said Lexie, "money isn't everything. Dad and I have lived on forty dollars a week, and the three of us could do it again, and have a swell time. Cigarette?"
"No, thanks." She wriggled out of his coat. "I must go in."
"Oh, must you? Can we finish our dance?"
"No. Garth will be looking for me."
Lexie took her into the entrance hall and let her go. He had a healthy instinct that the time had come for him to duck.
Glancing into Lily's pinched and bitter face, he thought: Well, anyhow, Garth'll get a taste of what's in store for him.
Lexie was scared by what he had done. When you gave the handle of Life a turn you never knew what tune was coming out of the box. But he didn't regret it.
He returned to his car and drove home.
AT breakfast time next morning a raw east wind was whipping rain against the French windows and all comfort had departed from the dining room. Lexie, waiting for his father, drifted back and forth, too fidgety to eat or to read the newspaper. Garth in a rage was a formidable proposition, and he felt like a schoolboy again.
When he heard his father's door open he hastily sat at the table and made believe to be absorbed in the Herald Tribune. Garth strode in.
"Good morning," said Lexie with an offhand glance at his face. It was as black as a thundercloud.
"Morning," growled Garth, opening the Times.
Lexie poured his coffee and passed it. Bessie brought in his breakfast and, seeing the storm signals, tiptoed out again.
Garth read and ate, scowling, and Lexie saw that he was not going to get a word out of him. He thought: Got to find out where I stand. He glanced through his newspaper for an inspiration.
"I see that your friend Gilbert Annesley is being sued for divorce," he remarked.
"Serves him damned well right!" said Garth. "Look at what he married! One of these alimony chasers. Annesley was her third, wasn't he? Now she's got number four picked out. Bigger and better alimony. Lex, that class of women is a curse to our country! Selfish, soulless parasites! For Pete's sake, when you want a wife choose a real woman; one who hasn't been corrupted by luxury and notoriety and all this idiotic running around; one who will give you something—sympathy, understanding, affection. Promise me that before you commit yourself you'll let me look her over, Lex. Because I've had experience. I know them through and through!"
A great content descended on Lexie.
"O.K., dad."
"Come on, let's get down to work."
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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