A DANGLING MAN
405
worn out trying to keep house and take care of Mr; Almstadt.
You couldn't leave ·a sick person alone ... and what could you
do without a maid. Her words showered down like little glass
pellets upon us. Old Almstadt gave no indication that he heard;
at times he seemed automatically deaf to her. But of course
it was impossible not to hear her; she has a high, atonal voice
which penetrates everywhere. And what I now became curious
to know was whether he was unaffected or whether she was a
nuisance to him. In the five years I had been his son-in-law I
had heard neither criticism nor defense of her from him save
on two occasions when he said, "Katy's still a child; she never
grew up."
Before I was aware of it, I was saying, "How do you stand
it? How did you ever manage to stick it out so long, Mr.
Almstadt?" "Stick out? What?" he said. "With her," I
plunged on. "It would get me, I know it would?" "What are
you talking about?" the old man asked, perplexed and angry.
I suppose he thought it dishonourable to allow anyone to say
such things to his face. But I could not help myself. It
seemed, at the moment, not an error but a very natural inquiry.
I was suddenly in a state of mind that required directness for
its satisfaction. Nothing else would do. "I don't know what
you mean," he said again. "Well, listen to her." "Oh," he
said, "you mean the telephone." "Yes, the telephone." He
appeared somewhat relieved. "I don't pay any attention to it.
All women are talkers. Maybe Katy talks more than most,
but you got to allow for that. She...." "Never grew up, is
that what you mean?" I interrupted. I doubt that ·this was what
he intended to say, but as he was the originator of the phrase
he could not dissent. Lips tightly drawn together he nodded.
"Yes, that's right. Some people just tum out different than
others. Everybody isn't alike." He spoke stifBy; he was still
angry. He had to make allowances for me, too, once in a while.
My behavior was ndt: always what it should be, he thus indi–
rectly gave me to understand. His color had thickened furi–
ously; it was slow to recede. Harsh and red his face shone
under the branched brass fixture whose light had a singular hue,
like tea. Was he deliberately covering up an opinion which,
