The Uncle. God knows what we shall be like at his age!
The Father. He is nearly eighty.
The Uncle. Then he has a right to be strange.
The Father. He is like all blind people.
The Uncle. They think too much.
The Father. They have too much time to spare.
The Uncle. They have nothing else to do.
The Father. And, besides, they have no distractions.
The Uncle. That must be terrible.
The Father. Apparently one gets used to it.