CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 49Visible text2 paragraphs
AT FIRST Father withdrew to the kitchen in the evenings. He tried to read, or to spread out his books and note cards on the worn oilcloth and work a little. But the kitchen was too small and cramped, and he felt confined there. He was a man who thrived on company, he loved arguing and joking, he loved light, and if he was made to sit on his own night after night in that depressing kitchen, with no clever wordplay, no historical or political debate, his eyes misted over with a sort of childish sulkiness.
Mother suddenly laughed and said to him: