stress.Paulcame and knocked at the door just after two oclock. Sorry,Martin. Mr. Blackwells father would like to see him in his officeright away.Wellgo down directly, Martin told him. Thank you, Paul. He shutthe door and leaned against it with a sigh. Henry? Are you ready?Henrywas not, but it wasnt as though he had a choice. He let Martin tughis suit back in order and they shared a perfunctory kiss, bothdistracted by imminent events.Theydescended the stairs in silence and walked down the south corridor toFathers study with their boots very loud against the marble floor.They stood a moment before the door; Henry realized he was holdinghis breath and let loose a shuddering exhale, trying forcibly torelax.ShallI knock, Sir? Martin didnt wait for a response, but reachedpast Henry and rapped on the door.Timothyopened the door. He stood looking between their faces, disapprovalwrit across his mild features. Henry hated having disappointedTimothy almost more than disappointing his father and felt his facegrow miserably hot.Timothystood aside and ushered them in with a sweep of his arm. Sir,Martin. Please come in.Fathersoffice was fogged with bluish strata of cigar smoke. Father sat inthe chair behind the desk, which creaked beneath his bulk.Henry,he said, gesturing with the cigar at the empty chair before the desk.He tilted back, glowering, and the chair squealed at the strain.Timothy? Where is that drink, old man? Fathersalready-florid face was an angry red and he looked as if he mightburst.Illjust get it for you, Sir. Timothy went to the sideboard and busiedhimself with a decanter and glass.Henrywent gingerly to the chair, almost on tiptoe, as if he might avoidangering his father further if he were very quiet and unobtrusive. Hesat up very straight, hands wringing in his lap. He was aware thatMartin stood behind the chair, close behind, but was afraid to turnto look at him. He was hesitant to look anywhere for fear ofincurring his fathers wrath, and stared unseeing at his own lap.Fathersaid, Look at me, son.Henrytentatively raised his gaze to meet his fathers. He didnt knowhow to read his fathers mood. Hed expected yelling and blaming,but Father was contained and exasperated, and, despite his size, hegave the impression of being some powerful animal set to spring, insupreme control. Father made a sound, half-growl, half-sigh, andshook his head as he knocked ash from his cigar into a heavy crystalashtray. He accepted his drink from Timothy with a nod ofacknowledgement.Youllknow what this is about, Father said, quite certain.Yes,sir. Henry wanted to curl in on himself, to hide his red face andprotect his soft parts.Andeven though they did both know what this was about, Father saw fit tolay it out anyway: A reporter managed to hunt me down today to letme know hed found you carrying on indecently with your slave inthe park. In public. Is that accurate?Henryswallowed hard. Well, yes, but w-we were a great distance off thepath, he offered as mitigation. Deep in the trees.Soyou imagined it would be all right. Fathers tone was full ofcondescensionIdidnt think anyone would find us, Henry admitted in anear-whisper.Imhaving a hard time understanding what must have been going