"The crazy bastard doesn't even hear the music," said Stern's mother. "He's in a world of his own."
Stern's father wound up the ballad with an elaborate trilling effect, and then Stern's mother said, "Isn't your wife home when you have an ulcer?"
"She doesn't know about it yet," said Stern.
"She ought to be home if you're not feeling well," said Stern's father.
"I said she doesn't know. Listen, none of this is doing me any good. I'm going upstairs on the bed. I'm going to a home in a few days, and I've got to stay quiet until then. Nobody upset me about anything."
He went upstairs, and when his stomach touched the bed, it seemed to puff up with pain like great baby cheeks and he had to roll over on his back to be comfortable. A car moved into the driveway and he went to the window and saw his wife hop out, come around and kiss a man through the driver's window, and then run into the house. Stern got back into bed. She was downstairs for a while, and then she ran up the steps and knelt beside him and said, "What happened?"
"I've come up with an ulcer and there'll be some kind of institution in a few days."
"Oh, that's not so bad," she said, her great eyes wide, kissing his wrist. "You'll fix it right up in a few days."
"No, I won't," said Stern. "It's a big thing and it'll be in there for a while. I may have to be away for a long time."
She was wearing a tight jumper that hugged her flaring thighs snugly; the crease of her underwear showed through, and Stern had a sudden fear that she had just thrown on her clothes in a great hurry.