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Thursday, March 22, 1928 I want to run through fields of tall green grass with you, Forgetting all Except to smile into the blue, [[strikethrough]] Except [[/strikethrough]] To laugh into the brazen [[?]] sun, Except to pass, We two as one, Thru butter-cups and meadow-grass, Except to run, in joyful haste, And not to spurn A thing, to taste The best of life. And never to return! 83 Friday, March 23, 1928 (Pierot is sitting in a large black rocking chair, rocking back & forth miserably. His head is in his hands, and there is an attitude of despair in his whole being. Columbine is perched on a table. As the curtain goes up she looks at Harlequin, who is sitting on a straight tall chair, and then back at Pierot) [[strikethrough]] Columbine [[/strikethrough]] Harlequin: But Pierot, [[strikethrough]] dear [[/strikethrough]] Pierot, it isn't too late. Columbine: At least, Pierot, it's not too late to keep yourself from losing all of you – the you that is so real and happy. Supposing she has gone. You can't stop living because you are without Pierette. Pierot: (not raising his head, and quite indistinctly) Living? [[strikethrough]] Columbine [[/strikethrough]] Harlequin: You've got to face the starkness of Reality. Pierette is gone. Pierot: Now what? Columbine: You must find something else. Develope your acting, or your music. You mustn't lose yourself because [[strikethrough]] the [[/strikethrough]] one thing is gone.