It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. E. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate.
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