way you can always tell the time by him, and the way he always catches the train—at least I hope he does, in case somebody like you goes round his firm dismissing everyone who's late... Oh, but what's going to happen, Uncle Charles—eventually?" "You mean will he stop running?" "Yes, or will the train stop running, or will he stop kissing his wife, or will you stop being able to dismiss people?—I don't know, it all seems so fragile—the least touch—" "I've had that feeling." "Oh, you HAVE?" Then pleadingly: "Don't make a joke about too much to drink, or lobster for supper. Please don't make a
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