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344 [[strikethrough]] Sunday, December 9, 1928 [[/strikethrough]] Props(?) expance of forehead. He was not as attractive looking as her brother, she discovered. [[strikethrough]] and [[/strikethrough]] His [[strikethrough]] convers [[/strikethrough]] humor was a malicious kind. But she liked him, and when they walked through the wooden gate again she told Charles she wanted to see John again. "He never goes out," Charles told her, "because he hasn't much money and because he's lazy. Everyone comes to see him, except when he can be persuaded to go swimming." She turned to her brother, "Is that often?" she asked. Charles laughed. "It will be now," because he's dieting and exercising. He's decided to get thin — to be "Body Beautiful Entrant." They both laughed then, and Charles drove her up to her hotel and then went home. When she saw him again it was in the pseudo garden in front of his house. A large fig tree, full of the rich purple colored fruit was generous in its spread of branches, and mingled with the palm on the other side. With a few chairs and the squat green table the garden became a cool and restful place for conversation late in the evening. She had been to the movies with her family and then she and Charles decided to visit John. He was glad to see them. He told them about his 345 [[strikethrough]] Monday, December 10, 1928 [[/strikethrough]] Props(?) diet — only vegetable salad with mineral oil dressing and perhaps a slice of watermelon or two in between. And then he told them about the iodine treatment for his hair, which was, and he stroked it, becoming sparse. Charles listened with the expression of a sailor who, passing a coast line he has seen so often before, listened to the enthusiasm of some avid traveller. She listened, too, and when John had finished she asked, without looking up from the cigarette she was tapping on her thumb-nail, "Why, John? Why all the trouble? Why so seriously?" John was sincere in his answer, "I want to have a nice body -- That's one thing they can't take away from me." Later she remembered his last sentence "They can't take away from me." It became a habit to go and sit with John after the first part of the evening. Sometimes he would be working on his new play. Sometimes he would be reading. Occasionally some other person was there. The little talks were always pleasant, superficial conversations, in which one either never thought of piercing the surface, or one was afraid to. As time went on she [[?]] what "they had taken from John." There had,
