"There you are." Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. "Cosmic sap and
smoke of life. Old Isaac Ford was straitlaced and all the rest, and
I know there's no explaining it, least of all to himself. He
understood it no more than you do. Smoke of life, that's all. And
don't forget one thing, Ford. There was a dab of unruly blood in
old Isaac Ford, and Joe Garland inherited it--all of it, smoke of
life and cosmic sap; while you inherited all of old Isaac's ascetic
blood. And just because your blood is cold, well-ordered, and well-
disciplined, is no reason that you should frown upon Joe Garland.
When Joe Garland undoes the work you do, remember that it is only
old Isaac Ford on both sides, undoing with one hand what he does
with the other. You are Isaac Ford's right hand, let us say; Joe
Garland is his left hand."

Percival Ford made no answer, and in the silence Dr. Kennedy
finished his forgotten Scotch and soda. From across the grounds an
automobile hooted imperatively.

"There's the machine," Dr. Kennedy said, rising. "I've got to run.
I'm sorry I've shaken you up, and at the same time I'm glad. And
know one thing, Isaac Ford's dab of unruly blood was remarkably
small, and Joe Garland got it all. And one other thing. If your
father's left hand offend you, don't smite it off. Besides, Joe is
all right. Frankly, if I could choose between you and him to live
with me on a desert isle, I'd choose Joe."

Little bare-legged children ran about him, playing, on the grass;
but Percival Ford did not see them. He was gazing steadily at the
singer under the hau tree. He even changed his position once, to
get closer. The clerk of the Seaside went by, limping with age and