"Nothing, mother. I just felt like staying in the reading-room
and reading--"

"Oh, you HAD to do some lessons, didn't you! Miss Roberts should
have known better--"

"I didn't have to stay in--I wanted to."

Martin still kept silent, his eyes looking over the newspaper
wide open, staring, the muscles of his jaw relaxed. The boy was
quick to sense that he was winning--the simple, non-resistance of
the lamb was confounding his father.

"I wanted to stay. I read a book, and then I took a walk, and
then I dropped in at the restaurant for a bite, and then I walked
around some more, and then I went to a movie."

"Billy, what are you saying?"

Martin, slowly putting down his paper, remarked without stressing
a syllable:

"You had better go to bed, Bill; at once, without arguing."

Bill moved towards the parlor, as though to obey. At the door he
stopped a moment and said: "I wasn't arguing; I was just
answering mother. She wanted to know."

"She does not want to know."