Mavis called to him and his footsteps came slowly along the passage. We could tell that he didn't want to meet us, and his eyes were still red when he entered the room.
I had forgotten how much like his father he was, and I heard a little gasp from Jimmy.
'Hello, David,' I said.
But he didn't look at me. He was staring at Jimmy, with that Puzzled expression of a man who has seen someone before but can't remember where.
And quite suddenly I knew that young David would never be art architect.
Вы читаете Inheritance
