Henry Barbour steps outside the family home onto the upper terrace. He looks across the hedge at his son Jack's house next door. The lights of the upstairs bedrooms are just being turned out. That means it's 8 o'clock and that Jack's six little daughters have finally settled down for the night. Father Barbour turns and peers reflectively out beyond his sea wall at the lights twinkling in the evening mist which hangs over San Francisco's golden gate bridge. He sighs, hesitates a moment, and then walks decisively toward his son's house. Jack's wife, Betty, is just coming downstairs as she hears Father Barbour rap lightly on the door...