Books for you

I had to stuff them up you had a sprained knee at
Chexington, and for all I knew any of them might have been seeing
you that morning. Besides what has a boy like you to worry about?
It's all nonsense, Poff."
She awaited his explanations. Benham looked for a moment like his
father.
"I'm not getting on, mother," he said. "I'm scattering myself. I'm
getting no grip. I want to get a better hold upon life, or else I
do not see what is to keep me from going to pieces--and wasting
existence. It's rather difficult sometimes to tell what one thinks
and feels--"
She had not really listened to him.
"Who is that woman," she interrupted suddenly, "Mrs. Fly-by-Night,
or some such name, who rings you up on the telephone?"
Benham hesitated, blushed, and regretted it.
"Mrs. Skelmersdale," he said after a little pause.
"It's all the same. Who is she?"
"She's a woman I met at a studio somewhere, and I went with her to
one of those Dolmetsch concerts."
He stopped.
Lady Marayne considered him in silence for a little while. "All
men," she said at last, "are alike.


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