"A nice fellow," said the Doctor, watching him through the window. "I
wonder why he didn't stop and speak to us?"
"I'm glad he didn't."
"My dear, why?"
"I've found out things--"
"What things?"
"That he's a--coward," with tense earnestness. "He won't fight."
"Who told you that?"
"Everybody's saying it."
"Everybody is dead wrong."
"What do you mean, Daddy?"
"What I have just said. Everybody is dead wrong."
"How do you know?"
"A doctor knows a great many things which he is not permitted to tell.
I am rather bound not to tell in this case."
"Oh, but you could tell me."
"Hardly--it was given in confidence."
"Did he? Oh, Daddy, did he tell you?"
"Yes."
"And he isn't a slacker?"
"No."
"I knew it--."
"You didn't. You thought he was a coward."
"Well, I ought to have known better. He looks brave, doesn't he?"
"I shouldn't call him exactly a heroic figure."
"Shouldn't you?"
She finished her chocolate in silence, and followed him in silence to
his car. They sped up F Street, gay with its morning crowd.
Then at last it came. "Isn't it a wonderful day, Daddy?"
He smiled down at her.
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