"No, I gotta go back to Australia."
Philip looked at his father sharply. "You aren't going back to stay, are you?"
"I gotta look after my property, haven't I?"
"Why did you ever come back at all?"
Jason considered the question. "I suppose it was curiosity . . . I wanted to see my own son, and well . . . I wanted to see what had happened to your Ma after all these years, and then it is sort of fun to be a returned prodigal. Nothing has happened to your Ma. She's just the same. She accused me of bein' drunk this morning when I'd only had a glass. She carried on something awful."
"Have you told her you're going back to stay?"
"No . . . I've just told her I'm going back." He looked at Philip suddenly. "I suppose you think I'm lyin' about all that property in Australia. Well, I ain't. I'll send you pictures of it when I get back . . . I ought to have brought them. I can't guess why I didn't."
He rose and put on his coat. "I'd better be movin' on now, or she'll be sayin' I've been hangin' around bars. Have you eaten yet?"
"Yes . . . at the railroad lunch counter."
"That's a hell of a life for a married man."
He stood for a moment looking at little Naomi, who lay asleep on Philip's shoulder. Then, shyly, he put out his finger and touched the downy head gently. "They're fine babies," he said. "I wouldn't have thought a poor creature like Naomi could have had 'em."
Philip laid the child gently beside her brother and stood looking down at them.
