The next moment he had demanded vehemently: "For Heaven's sake, who ARE you, boy ?" David's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.
"Why, I'm David.

Don't you remember?
I was here just the other day!" "Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that ?" "Father." "'Father'!" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.
"First Latin, then jiujitsu, and now the violin! Boy, who was your father ?" David lifted his head and frowned a little.

He had been questioned so often, and so unsympathetically, about his father that he was beginning to resent it.
"He was daddy--just daddy; and I loved him dearly." "But what was his name ?" "I don't know.

We didn't seem to have a name like--like yours down here.

Anyway, if we did, I didn't know what it was." "But, David,"-- the man was speaking very gently now.