‘I know because you are me. Because ever since there was talk of this commission I have been thinking and thinking what were you thinking--so as to help you.’ This itself is a help. Roger’s hand--but he withdraws it hurriedly. ‘They all seem to be so frightfully brave, father,’ he says wistfully. ‘I expect, Roger, that the best of them had the same qualms as you before their first engagement.’ ‘I--I kind of think, father, that I won’t be a funk.’ ‘I kind of think so too, Roger.’ Mr. Torrance forgets himself. ‘Mind you don’t be rash, my boy; and for God’s sake, keep your head down in the trenches.’ Roger has caught him out. He points a gay finger at his anxious father. ‘You know you laughed at mother for saying that!’ ‘Did I? Roger, your mother thinks that I have an unfortunate manner with you.’ The magnanimous Roger says, ‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s just the father-and-son complication.’ ‘That is really all it is. But she thinks I should show my affection for you more openly.’ Roger wriggles again. Earnestly, ‘I wouldn’t do that.’ Nicely, ‘Of course for this once--but in a general way I wouldn’t do that. _We_ know, you and I.’ ‘As long as we know, it’s no one else’s affair, is it?’ ‘That’s the ticket, father.’ ‘Still----’ It is to be feared that Mr. Torrance is now taking advantage of his superior slyness. ‘Still, before your mother--to please her--eh?’ Faltering, ‘I suppose it would.’ ‘Well, what do you say?’ ‘I know she would like it.’ ‘Of course you and I know that display of that sort is all bunkum--repellent even to our natures.’ ‘Lord, yes!’ ‘But to gratify her.’ ‘I should be so conscious.’ Mr. Torrance is here quite as sincere as his son. ‘So should I.’ Roger considers it. ‘How far would you go?’ ‘Oh, not far. Suppose I called you “Old Rogie”? There’s not much in that.’ ‘It all depends on the way one says these things.’ ‘I should be quite casual.’ ‘Hum. What would you like me to call you?’ Severely, ‘It isn’t what would _I_ like. But I daresay your mother would beam if you called me “dear father.”’ ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘You know quite well that you think so, Roger.’ ‘It’s so effeminate.’ ‘Not if you say it casually.’ With something very like a snort Roger asks, ‘How does one say a thing like that casually?’ ‘Well, for instance, you could whistle while you said it--or anything of that sort.’ ‘Hum. Of course you--if we were to--be like that, you wouldn’t _do_ anything.’ ‘How do you mean?’ ‘You wouldn’t paw me?’