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Ah Cum was not a sailor, but he knew his water-front. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. "I've waited supper, you perceive. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. 1. Listen, you. He was not sure that the boy had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed that way. He yielded his place and struck instead with his tongue.

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