"Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. But I want to know what you are doing. There's our young friend upstairs. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock.
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