"Countermand the order for the
limousine," he said to the butler, "and order the small car for Mr.
Graham and myself."
"How dare you do that?"
"I am not going to let you ruin the biggest day in his life."
She saw that he meant it. She was incredulous, reckless, angry,
and thwarted for the first time in her self-indulgent life.
"I hate you," she said slowly. "I hate you!"
She turned and went slowly up the stairs. Graham, knocking at her
door a few minutes later, heard the sound of hysterical sobbing,
within, but received no reply.
"Good-by, mother," he called. "Good-by. Don't worry. I'll be all
right."
When he saw she did not mean to open the door or to reply, he went
rather heavily down the stairs.
"I wish she wouldn't," he said. "It makes me darned unhappy."
But Clayton surmised a relief behind his regret, and in the train
the boy's eyes were happier than they had been for months.
"I don't know how I'll come out, dad," he said. "But if I don't
get through it won't be because I didn't try.
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