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220

Tuesday, August 7, 1928

Thown by chance together once a week.
There is a group, I sometimes felt he knew
That underneath my stilted sentences there was a smile for him-
One can't be eloquent when answering professor's questions in a class,
Especially where the professor has brown speckled eyes and apitated hands,
And one is just a student who gets As.

But just today he stopped to speak to me
As I was leaving class, and he suggested that we go to lunch.
It was an ordinary thing [[strikethrough]] to do [[/strikethrough]] we did,
Quite sane to go for lunch at half-past twelve,
Quite sane to take out cigarettes and start to walk the hill.

Oh! I must pause and tell you that it wasn't sane,
It wasn't sane to find ourselves outside the little weekly group
Prescribed by chance.
No! We had slipped beyond the formal sentences,
All by ourselves, and we  would have to answer, too.
The things we said were not quite sane,

221
Wednesday, August 8, 1928

They hurried on, the next begun before the last had melted in the air,
And neither of us heard the other's voice.