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I suspect he has a bit of vanity. Do you have family that I should ask?” “Oh, Julian! No, my family is dead, lost. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. He had never wanted daughters. They had as many designations as grades. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. The tired woman looked quietly at her. Only a son’s another story. I may want you. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade.
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