“I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. "I must tell you," she was saying. Does he have a girlfriend?\" She entered the middle row of the cinema, folding down a red velveteen seat. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.
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