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[[strikethrough]] Tuesday, December 11, 1928 [[/strikethrough]]

of course been a woman, but it had been the usual and natural adoration of a young man for an older woman, and the scar, for John insisted there was one, had never been deep, was surely healed and faded now. But there had been other things, too, ideas for plays, titles - his self respect when the last play had run for only two weeks - his money. His struggle had made him lose the frothy sense of humor that Charles, for instance, had. These things lost their weight in her eyes, but to John they were tremendously important. He wanted something permanent. His whole house showed it. The books he had treasured as a boy were still in the book-case. His first manuscript was in a large and dusty box. The very fact that this belonged to him, had been his long enough to get dusty and broken, and yet be useful, was important to John. He had become lazy, lately. [[strikethrough]] His they [[/strikethrough]] The play he was working on now was not half done and it had taken him a longer time than any of the others. It seemed silly almost to her that now he should turn to his body, that he should work to be able to pride himself on his broad shoulders and muscular arms, but she could understand.


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[[strikethrough]] Wednesday, December 12, 1928 [[/strikethrough]]

As time went on and their visits became as usual as the routine of meals she came to know John better and to like him. All her life she had liked people who needed something which she could give them. It sounded stilted and unreal when she said that to herself now, but it had been true. Her sympathy and understanding had always won peoples affections for her, had given her power over them, and it was only people for whom she was necessary who attracted her. She thought of John now. He was making an idiot of himself with his dieting and so on. He was childish in the serious way he thought of himself. That evening when she and John were walking over to wake up Mr. Manchester's dog she told him how foolish he was. John looked down at her through the roundness of his glasses and he said a little tiredly, "I've got to have something to think about - something to lean on - something that will be permanent." She slipped her arm through his. "Me, for a change, John?" she asked. And John took her hand.

[[strikethrough]] They went out [[/strikethrough]] After that evening they went out together sometimes, and they swam together, and ran up and down the beach.