His eyes are keen, shadowed by bushy brows, and his New England
features bear the stamp of inflexible "character." He wears a black
"cutaway" coat and dark striped trousers; his voice is strong and
resonant. But he is evidently preoccupied and worried, though he
smiles with affection as he perceives GEORGE. GEORGE'S fondness for
him is equally apparent.

GEORGE. Hello, dad.

ASHER. Oh, you're here, George.

GEORGE (looking, at ASHER). Something troubling you?

ASHER (attempting dissimulation). Well, you're going off to France,
they've only given you two days' leave, and I've scarcely seen anything
of you. Isn't that enough?

GEORGE. I know how busy you've been with that government contract on
your hands. I wish I could help.

ASHER. You're in the army now, my boy. You can help me again when you
come back.

GEORGE. I want to get time to go down to the shops and say goodbye to
some of the men.

ASHER. No, I shouldn't do that, George.

GEORGE (surprised). Why not? I used to be pretty chummy with them, you
know,--smoke a pipe with them occasionally in the noon hour.