3

In a small private lounge which was sometimes used for VIPs, the young girl in the uniform of a Trans America ticket agent was sobbing hysterically.
Tanya Livingston steered her to a chair. "Make your- self comfortable," Tanya said practically, "and take your time. You'll feel better afterward, and when you're ready we can talk."
Tanya sat down herself, smoothing her trim, tight uniform skirt. There was no one else in the room, and the only sound-apart from the crying-was the faint hum of air-conditioning.
There was fifteen years or so difference in age between the two women. The girl was not much more than twenty, Tanya in her late thirties. Watching, Tanya felt the gap to be greater than it was. It came, she supposed, from having been exposed to marriage, even though briefly and a long time ago-or so it seemed.
She thouorht: it was the second time she had been conscious of her age today. The first was while combing her hair this morning; she had seen telltale strands of gray among the short-cropped, flamboyant red. There was more of the

gray than last time she had checked a month or so ago, and both occasions were reminders that her forties-by which time a woman ought to know where she was going and why-were closer than she liked to think about. She had another thought: in fifteen years from now, her own daughter would be the same age as the girl who was crying.
The girl, whose name was Patsy Smith, wiped reddened eyes with a large linen handkerchief which Tanya had given her. She spoke with difficulty, choking back more tears. "They wouldn't talk that way ... so mean, rudely ... at home . . . not to their wives."
"You mean passengers wouldn't?"
The girl nodded.
"Some would," Tanya said. "When you're married, Patsy, you may find out, though I hope not. But if you're telling me that men behave like adolescent boors when their travel plans get crossed up, I'll agree with you.
"I was doing my best We all were . . . All day today; and yesterday ... the day before ... But the way people talk to you . . ." "You mean they act as if you started the storm yourself. Especially to inconvenience them."