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20/02/2009

Just the romantic age

"They approached a group of which Miss Moncrief was the center. Reared in the old tradition, she courtesied low before Benjamin. Yes, he might have a chance. He thanked her and walked away, staggered away.

The interval until the time for his turn should arrive dragged itself out interminably. He stood close to the wall, silent, inscrutable, watching with murderous eyes th young bloods of Baltimore as they edded around Hildegarde  Moncrief, passionate admiration in their faces. But when his own time came, and he drifted with her out upon the changing floor to the music of the latest waltz from Paris, his jealousies and anxieties melted from him like a mantle of snow, he felt that life was just beginning.

You and your brother got here just as we did, didn't you?

Benjamin hesitated, if she took him for his father's brother, would it be best to enlighten her? he decided against it; it would be rude to contradict a lady. So, he nodded, smiled, listened,was happy.

I like men of your age; young boys are so idiotic; they tell me how much champagne they drink at college, and how much money they lose playing cards. You're just the romantic age, fifty.

Twenty-five is too worldly wise; thirty is apt to be pale from overwork; forty is the age of long stories that take a long cegar to tell; sixty is oh, it's too near seventy.I love fifty. Fifty seemed to Benjamin a glorious age; he longed passionately to be fifty.

I've always said, went on Hildegarde, that I'd rather marry a man of fifty and be taken care of than marry a man of thirty and take care of him."

F.SCOTT FITZGERALD      [The curious case of Benjamin Button]

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