There Comes a Time [antikvár]

There comes a time in every man's life when he says to himself, "I'm getting old." He has said it before, but with melancholy gusto, not believing it himself and expecting no one else to believe it; old age, like death, has been something that happened to other people. Now he feels it happening to himself, and he doesn't like it; but what can be done about it he doesn't know. Sometimes he learns. On a warm Saturday night toward the end of June, Joel Pane was sitting in his living room moodily wishing he were somewhere else. His legs were sprawled out before him, a fist was propped against each cheek and there was a look of profound discontent on his face. Across the room his wife Nancy was contentedly reading a biography of Benjamin Franklin. His young son Corny was in the kitchen at the far end of the flat, building a bomber; his even younger daughter Biddy was at her cousin's birthday party. The radio at his elbow was making music but the windows were open and now and then street traffic, children shouting, all but obliterated it. Overhead, the Jennings dog began thumping the floor rhythmically. Nothing of him moving but his lips, Joel said, "That damned hound's going to wear out his elbow one of these days." "Mrs. Jennings claims he hasn't got fleas," Nancy murmured absently, her eyes on her book. "She says he's just nervous." 3