Chicago's quite a village, for an inland
settlement, even if it has only two or three million people, and a
lake as big as all outdoors. That kind of talk won't elect you to
the University Club, son."
So they talked, all through supper and during the evening. Rather,
Jock talked and his mother listened, interrupting with only an
occasional remark when the bubble of the boy's elation seemed to
grow too great.
Quite suddenly Jock was silent. After the almost incessant rush of
conversation quiet settled down strangely on the two seated there
in the living-room with its soft-shaded lamps. Jock picked up a
magazine, twirled its pages, put it down, strolled into his own
room, and back again.
"Mother," he said suddenly, standing before her, "there was a
time when you were afraid I wasn't going to pan out, wasn't
there?"
"Not exactly afraid, dear, just a little doubtful, perhaps."
Jock smiled a tolerant, forgiving smile. "You see, Mother, you
didn't understand, that's all. A woman doesn't. I was all right. A
man would have realized that. I don't mean, dear, that you haven't
always been wonderful, because you have. But it takes a man to
understand a man. When you thought I was going bad on your hands I
was just developing, that's all.
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