Watching a kind-looking woman dote over her father in a coffee bar at Victoria Station, Rose cannot help thinking about her own father. Rose fantasizes about the obviously well-organized daughter's life and is sorry when they head to their train. Rose wishes that she could take her father, widowed seven years, on vacation to thank him for all he has done for her. Although he is only sixty, he insists that he is a dog too old to learn new tricks. She counters his arguments and knows that he would love to see Paris again, because he still pulls out prewar scrapbooks. He had enthusiastically given her advice before her first trip to Paris at twenty, but she had been too young and proud to take his advice. By age thirty she has been back thirty times, visited his old haunts, and taken pictures to talk about. She wishes that her father were pushier; it might have spared her a brief, bad marriage to Gus.