Jack submitted to this scrutiny with a very bad grace, and vehemently protested his innocence. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. God, we suck. Half the rooms empty. Taking up a couple of large stones which lay near, Jack tried to beat the round basils of the fetters into an oval form, so as to enable him to slip his heels through them. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him.
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