” The tall young man dropped his eye-glass and smiled. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. ” She looked at him doubtfully. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. Doctors constantly admonished and offered weak consolation that most would have been hurt much worse from the type of fall he took. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing.
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