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"You're growing very handsome, you know, boy," she said. "Almost
too handsome. A man doesn't need good looks. They're almost a
handicap. Look at your father."
"They haven't hurt him any, I should say."
"I don't know." She reflected, eyeing her cigaret. "He presumes on
them, rather. And a good many men never think a handsome man has
any brains."
"Well, he fools them there, too."
She raised her eyebrows slightly.
"Tell me about the new plant, Graham."
"I don't know anything about it yet," he said bluntly. "And you
wouldn't be really interested if I did."
"That's rather disagreeable of you."
"No; I'm just trying to talk straight, for once. We - you and I
- we always talk around things. I don't know why."
"You look terribly like your father just now. You are quite savage."
"That's exactly what I mean, mother. You don't say father is savage.
God knows he isn't that. You just say I act like father, and that I
am savage."
Natalie blew a tiny cloud of cigaret smoke, and watched it for a
moment.


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