OCR Text |
Show 71S family, instead of harmonizing those he had. As we entered the master bedroom,the woman rushed to pick up a heap of white clothing. "Your father's," she explained. "I've been working on geneaology and hadn't time to straighten up. " "He was here last night?" The idea disturbed me. I gtl/iced about the blue and white room, picturing his presence here. "Was he well? I thought perhaps I would stop to see him. Even though he said he'd be very busy." "Very busy. Forty patients on the book, I think he said. And then there are always an inconsiderate few who just drop in." On our way to the white house, as we passed my father's office, I pulled to the curb, saying "Jwould love to introduce you to my father." And then when Clare said nothing, I decided not to be one of the inconsiderate few and veered away from the curb back to the main pavement. "He's too busy today. We'd better not interrupt him." The premonition did not pass, however, as we drove down the familiar road to the white house. Something tugged me back, toward my father. We drove down the lane. The big old pine-tree that had once sheltered our parlor window from prying eyes had been removed and a deep excavation made in the front lawn, the fresh dark earth piled to one side like a new grave. Pangs of fear and sorrow shot through my heart and I wanted to return to the office and tell my father to do something. Stop them, I wanted to say. They'll ruin cur home. Everything else was the same, a-,l1t+hvomungshh txhnee sg rounds were |