It came to him, quite suddenly, that his father had bowed to the
man--the big man with the classic head and the air of being at ease
with himself and the world.
He did things to the velvet and ermine wrap that he was holding, which
seemed to satisfy its owner, then he gripped his father's arm. "Dad,
who is that big man down there--with the red head--the one who bowed to
you?"
"Dr. McKenzie, Bruce McKenzie, the nerve specialist--"
Of course it was something to know that, but one didn't get very far.
"Let's go somewhere and eat," said the General, and that was the end of
it. Out of the tail of his eye, Derry Drake saw the two figures with
the copper-colored heads move down the aisle, to be finally merged into
the indistinguishable stream of humanity which surged towards the door.
Jean and her father did not go to supper at the big hotel around the
corner as was their custom.
"I've got to get to the hospital before twelve," the Doctor said. "I
am sorry, dear--"
"It doesn't make a bit of difference. I don't want to eat," she
settled herself comfortably beside him in the car. "Oh, it is snowing,
Daddy, how splendid--"
He laughed.
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