Free Earth and High Heaven by Gwethalyn Graham Page B

it’s done and we can’t change it. Every time he remembers what happened to him in our house, it will happen to him all over again ...”
    â€œI daresay it’s happened to him before,” said his father dryly.
    â€œProbably,” said Erica. “After all, we Canadians don’t really disagree fundamentally with the Nazis about the Jews — we just think they go a bit too far.”
    There was a quick flash of anger in his dark eyes and a momentary tightening of the muscles around his mouth, but he said nothing, and the next minute his face was as impassive as ever. He went on looking at her steadily, almost speculatively, with no indication of what he was thinking showing in his face. It was so unlike him that Erica felt vaguely uneasy, but she added in the same tone, “Anyhow, the fact that other people have kicked him around doesn’t mean that Marc has worked up an immunity which more or less lets you out — or that I feel any better because all you did was gang up with the others.”
    She said, “Apart from your manners, which are usually a good deal better than that, what on earth has become of your sense of justice ...” and suddenly pulled herself up short. She was on the wrong track. None of them had ever got anywhere with Charles by a discussion of abstract principles — though after thirty-two years of marriage, Margaret Drake was still trying! — the only way to reach him was through his emotions. Her father had never cared what his family thought on any subject, since in most arguments, he did not think himself; he only cared how they felt. Any stand he took with them was likely to be largely emotional, and to counter emotion with logic was useless; the only effective way to deal with him was to take advantage of his intuitive understanding of people and to substitute either your own or someone else’s feelings for his own. Once her father started to be sympathetic, he usually defeated himself.
    She said, “I don’t know when I’ve met anyone I’ve liked as much as I liked Marc, or anyone as intelligent and civilized and as easy to talk to. He’s the complete opposite of everything you seem to think. He hasn’t much self-confidence and he didn’t know anybody but René; I think he had an awful time until I came along and rescued him. If you’d even bothered to look at him, you’d have known what kind of person he is because it’s all in his face ...”
    Unimpressed and still nowhere near losing his temper, her father broke in at last, “You don’t seem to realize that fortunately or unfortunately, the kind of person he is has almost nothing to do with it ...”
    â€œWhat matters is the label, is that it?”
    â€œI didn’t invent the label, Eric. And I’ve already told you that I don’t intend to sit here and be lectured by one of my children ...”
    â€œI’m not trying to lecture you,” said Erica desperately. “I’m trying to get you to tell me why you did it. Along with what you did to Marc, you gave me the worst shock I’ve ever had — you, of all people! I thought I could count on you to back me up — you always have until now — and instead of that, you let me down. You couldn’t have let me down any harder if you’d tried. And having put me in the most humiliating position — believe it or not, Charles, I’d just finished telling him that you’d like to meet him because both of you are so keen on music; I’d even invited him to come and listen to your records! — you tell me that I’m not even entitled to an explanation.”
    The reading lamp standing beside his chair was almost in line with Erica and himself, shining into his eyes whenever he looked up at her. She was still standing with her back to the windows, and the pupils of her eyes were so enlarged that her eyes appeared black instead of green.