Arthur senses his father has no chance, no matter how much he toadies before these well-dressed gentlemen with their brocaded waistcoats and silk cravats. They look at him with obvious disdain; in their eyes there is only contempt. Witnessing this makes the boy sad. We never want our parents’ weaknesses to be seen by others. Their failures are our own private affair, a secret we would rather keep to ourselves; when they become public, for everyone’s consumption, we are no longer the children we once were.
