Grandfather was dead.
John did not know quite what he should do. It was his first experience of death at close hand, and he was rather surprised at his own indifference. The only feeling he noted was a slight tinge of excitement at the prospect of attending his first funeral, and he realized that this was not really proper. In fairness, his reaction was not untypical for a young boy, and he had not known his paternal grandfather very well. Peter’s father had only visited them once or twice a year, and while such visits were entertaining, John rarely spoke to him alone. He always regarded him as a distant and dominating figure, although he often had the feeling that the old man was watching him.
And now he was dead, and John was sitting on the fringe of a small group of black whispering f
