She would feel now, more than ever, that Jack was just like his father.
Being like his father meant reproach because he was not like her, and that was always galling to Jack.

And how she must hate the thought of him now.
He wished savagely that Marion Rose could go home.

He wanted to be alone with his loneliness.

It seemed to him now that being alone meant merely peace and contentment.

It was people, he told himself finally, who had brought all this trouble and bitterness into his life.
He wished she would go and leave him alone, but that was manifestly impossible.