It was most likely that this initial significance tricked Harold into believing he was needed, that he not only had a purpose in the Winfield family household, but also a place. At the beginning he felt he was on top of the world. Little did he know that it would all go crumbling down, and he would ultimately be all alone.
Sometimes when the father arrived home from the site he would flop down on a chair in the kitchen and light a cigarette. Harold loved the smell of the crisp waves of smoke as they drifted up into his face. He sit with his eyes closed, his head pushed forward so that the grey lines from the top of the cylinder would glide into his nose, giving him a delightful feeling.