CHAPTER ELEVEN
John wondered, idly, how this old man knew so much about it. Maybe he was not as old as his years. John went back to the liquor cabinet, got his drink, carried it to where the old man sat. "Mind getting me a brandy, young man?"
"Sure," John said. "Big one?"
"Big one," the old man said. John brought him the brandy. The old man thanked him, tasted of it, made a face. "My son still doesn't know good brandy from bad," he said. He put the glass down, looked up at John, fingered his trim white mustache. "I'm going to ask you a question, Deering. I'm supposed to stay out of this altogether, but I see no point in doing so any longer.
I-" He stopped, picked up his brandy, took a sip, put it down again. "How are you making out with my son's wife?"
John stared at him, hoping his f
