I'm very doubtful.''
Jane was depressed, but not so depressed as she would have been
had not her father so long looked like death and so often been
near dying.
``Stay at home until I see how this is going to turn out.
Telephone your sister to be within easy call. But don't let her
come here. She's not fit to be about an ill person. The sight
of her pulling a long, sad face might carry him off in a fit of
rage.''
Jane observed him with curiosity in the light streaming from the
front hall. ``You're a very practical person aren't you?'' she
said.
``No romance, no idealism, you mean?''
``Yes.''
He laughed in his plain, healthy way. ``Not a frill,'' said he.
``I'm interested only in facts. They keep me busy enough.''
``You're not married, are you?''
``Not yet. But I shall be as soon as I find a woman I want.''
``IF you can get her.''
``I'll get her, all right,'' replied he. ``No trouble about
that. The woman I want'll want me.''
``I'm eager to see her,'' said Jane. ``She'll be a queer one.''
``Not necessarily,'' said he. ``But I'll make her a queer one
before I get through with her--queer, in my sense, meaning
sensible and useful.''
``You remind me so often of Victor Dorn, yet you're not at all
like him.''
``We're in the same business--trying to make the human race fit
to associate with. He looks after the minds; I look after the
bodies. Mine's the humbler branch of the business, perhaps--but
it's equally necessary, and it comes first.
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