Suddenly he held out his hand.
"As man to man, Morrison, in this instance," he said in rather a
hoarse, breathless voice, "don't you think it would be a good
idea for you and me to assert our manhood, to manage our own
affairs, to select our own wives if need be? If we really set
ourselves to the job don't you believe we can work out our lives
more to our liking than anyone else can plan for us? You get the
idea, don't you, Morrison?"
Peter was facing the kitchen sink but he did not see it. His
brain was whirling. He did see Snow's point of view. He did
realize his position. But what Mr. Snow knew of his affairs he
could only guess. The one thing Mr. Snow could not know was that
Linda frankly admitted her prepossession for her school chum,
Donald Whiting, but in any event if Peter could not have Linda he
would much prefer occupying his dream house alone. So he caught
at the straw held out to him with both hands.
"I get you," he said tersely. "It is not quite up to the mark of
the manhood we like to think we possess to let our lives be
engineered by a high school kid. Suppose we do just quietly and
masterfully assert ourselves concerning our own affairs."
"Suppose we do," said Snow with finality.
Whereupon they shook hands with a grip that whitened their
knuckles.
Then they went back to Lilac Valley and had their dinner
together, and Linda and Peter escorted Eugene Snow to his train
and started him on his return trip to San Francisco feeling very
much better.
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