"I've never noticed," she replied. And, small bundle of samples in
her hand, resumed her reading and her inspection of textiles.

"Good night, Natalie."

"Good night." She did not look up.

Outside his wife's door he hesitated. Then he crossed and without
knocking entered Graham's bedroom. The boy was lounging in a long
chair by an open fire. He was in his dressing gown and slippers,
and an empty whiskey-and-soda glass stood beside him on a small
stand. Graham was sound asleep. Clayton touched him on the shoulder,
but he slept on, his head to one side, his breathing slow and heavy.
It required some little effort to waken him.

"Graham!" said Clayton sharply.

"Yes." He stirred, but did not open his eyes.

"Graham! Wake up, boy."

Graham sat up suddenly and looked at him. The whites of his eyes
were red, but he had slept off the dinner wine. He was quite
himself.

"Better get to bed," his father suggested. "I'll want you early
to-morrow."

"What time, sir?"