Hooked into a cat's cradle of life-sustaining apparatus, few of us today can hope, with Keats, for an "easeful Death" in which we "cease upon the midnight with no pain"—to say nothing of the humiliation of having tubes jammed into every available orifice. So thanks to the marvels of modern medical science, it takes Morris Weber, the moribund central figure of Evan Hunter's 17th novel ["Far From the Sea"], a full Monday-to-Friday workweek in which to die, following a colostomy. And thanks to Evan Hunter's keen reportorial eye, we're with him all the way, or at least with his son, David, who has flown down to Miami from his New York law practice to be at his father's bedside.

Approaching 50, David himself is nearly tired to death. He has just lost an important case. Relations with his wife, Molly, have been strained ever since their 15-year-old son...