” They returned to the Beck house and he walked her to the front door. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. I suppose I believe in God. He divorced her. Like a petulant child he snapped. Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually.
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