“Please tell me frankly if this is true. Your matter-of-fact ‘duty’ cards do not begin to appease the hunger of my heart, but rather would I go without their incredible meagerness and empty promise than feel continually, insistently, day after day, that you are—the real you that I loved—no longer wholly mine.... You must know what you mean to me: why do you act this way? I want to understand, so please explain and try to remember how much you once said you loved Your “VYVY.” I didn’t realize, until I read this, that I had not written to the poor girl for over a month. She had a right to be wild by this time. I could hear her calling Leon every bad name she knew, and she was not ignorant by any means. So I supposed I’d have to sit down and pen her a long and worshipful epistle, telling her all about it. No, on second thought, I wouldn’t. I was sick of writing love letters to a girl. Why couldn’t Leon write his own love letters? I’d wait until I saw if he was still in Le Mans and if he was, he could just sit right down and do his stuff for the sake of his velvety Vyvy. And he could just keep on writing to her.... That’s one thing that would be off my mind.... Then I had a haircut: that was another thing off my mind. Pretty soon there wouldn’t be anything on it except my own business. God, but that would be a beautiful day for me! —2— Ben and I were promenading with Esky the following afternoon when we bumped smack into Leon, just about a block from Le Chien Rouge. If I had seen him first, I would have managed somehow to divert Ben’s attention so that I could see Leon without Ben’s knowing about it, but the way it happened, Ben noticed Esky was acting funny and when he looked across the street he saw something that made him roar out impulsively, “Hey, you!... You’re the guy that got me in the jug! Come over here!” That was the first I knew of Leon’s proximity and I turned to see him stepping across the thoroughfare in compliance with Ben’s command. Before I thought, I cried out, “Hello, Leon. Lord, but I’ve been wanting to see you!” Ben turned about and faced me, but before I could say anything to him, Leon was with us, greeting me with a rather doubtful “Hello.” He kept eying my companion suspiciously, as if he expected to see him draw back for a lusty swing any minute. And I was trying to think fast: Ben had heard me call him by my own name, and some explanation would have to be given for that. Also, he’d wonder why I said I couldn’t imagine who this double of mine was. Yes, Mr. Ben was bound to get some explanations, but not just now.