Men never grow up, except when they go bad. Nice men never grow up, not properly, although they pretend to, and put on airs and speak gravely: feign to talk important secrets when we women aren’t there, and turn us out of council meetings; try to look impressive, and puff and blow if you ask them anything. But it’s all make-believe. In the things that really matter a man of fifty is no wiser than a boy of fifteen.