"You must have met him out yonder.

What was he doing ?" "Shoveling gravel on a railroad that my father was grading," said Ida, with rather grim amusement, for she was determined that the man should face the plain reality, even if it hurt him.
"Shoveling gravel!" said Weston.

"But he is my son." "I'm afraid that doesn't count out yonder.

In any case, he's in one sense in reasonably good company.

Did you send your son to Sandhurst or an English university ?" "I didn't," said the man, gazing at her with hot, confused anger in his eyes.