But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. You heard her. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. He never seemed to take full advantage while they were in his mammoth automobile. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. “What a hypocrite you are. “Uh, can you get me a soda or something?” She said, shielding her exposed teeth with her hand. The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly.
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