And again with his conscience up in arms he remembered the face of Donald's sister.

In a sense he could thank the boy for the peace of his summer.

And he had written his promise.

He was like Kenny, that boy, inflammable of purpose, erratic in his vigor, and likable.

And he needed a friend, inflexible and kindly.
"Always," said Brian, "I am slated to be somebody's keeper." Could he shirk?
Had he shirked when he left the studio in anger?
Had he a right to live his life his own way?
Had anybody?
His common sense endorsed his earlier rebellion.