The Bright Shawl

When Howard Gage had gone, his mother's brother sat with his head bowed in frowning thought. The frown however was one of perplexity rather than disapproval he was wholly unable to comprehend the younger man's attitude toward his experiences in the late war. The truth was Charles Abbott acknowledged that he understood nothing, nothing at all about the present young. Indeed, if it hadn't been for the thoroughly absurd, the witless things they constantly did dispensing with their actual years he would have considered them the present aged.