One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. It was clear that he meant to kiss her before she exited the car. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. Howard Taber.
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