“Tired?” Charles Adair looked up over his reading glasses at his wife, who set down her book with a sigh and watched the summer rain drizzle down the parlor window.
“No. I was thinking about Andrew.”
“Mm-hmm.” Charles returned to his reading.
“What do you think of his young lady friend?”
Charles glanced up from his book. “She’s very pretty.”
“Yes, but did you notice how he looks at her?”
“Like a young man looks at a pretty girl?”
“No. There’s more to it than that, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry.” Charles returned to his reading with a rustle.
“Well, I would. What if it gets serious?”
Charles lowered his newspaper and stared over his glasses. “Now, what makes you think it will get serious?”
“I don’t know. A feeling.”
“Well, my feeling is that he is a young man who is enjoyin
