It was Dora who named the others. Dora's a wonderful woman . . . like your Ma in a way, only Dora understands me."
There was a long, sudden silence, in which Philip thought, "If I'd only done as he did, everything would have been all right. He's happy and he's been free . . . always. I was weak and cowardly. I didn't do one thing or the other, and now there's no way out."
"You see what I mean," said Jason. "You'd have a home out there, and a family too. You wouldn't be going alone into a new country." He looked at his son wistfully. "You'd better come with me . . . woman or no woman."
"No, Pa . . . I can't. I've got to marry the woman, and I want to go to a new country . . . alone." His face was gray and drawn suddenly. "I've got to do it . . . it's the only thing."
"You'd better think it over, Philip."
"I've thought it over . . . I've been doing nothing else."
His father took up the tan derby. "And you won't tell your Ma, will you?"
"I won't tell her . . . ever. You needn't worry."
"You can tell her when I'm gone . . . I don't want to face her, that's all."
Jason went out, all depressed once more. Philip wasn't his boy at all. Emma had done something to him.
When he had gone, Philip sat down and began to laugh. He felt sick inside, and bruised. "Oh, my God! And I've got three brothers and two sisters in Australia! And that's where he got the accent. He got it from Dora!"
