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explanations he had grasped the fundamentals and went on to become a formidable opponent. They bought a farmhouse in Connecticut and turned the barn into a little summer theater; beside this, Virgil farmed, at which he was more successful. In the end, he was appointed postmaster for their little town in Connecticut. 

The story of Virgil's acumen as financial editor was one of many that Jim Fraser told me in Paris. He summoned up easily some quality in people in his stories that made them human and special, also recognizable if I met them later. Several months after I was in Paris, and after I had filled many sheets of paper on my little travel typewriter, I went one morning after my stint at writing for a second breakfast at the Deux Magots. A painter came to my table, and while he was standing Jim came up. He was not an habituee of the cafe; he worked on the Tribune, lived on the outskirts of Paris and spent his mornings working on a novel. He had had a story in transition and (I think) The Little Review. He was married, and his wife and two daughters were in Dorset visiting her family.

That day he was waiting for someone in the cafe who might lend him money, and as someone went inside the cafe he excused himself and deserted the terrace quickly. I left the cafe soon and went down to American Express to pick up my mail--something I liked to put off as long as I could. I wrote few letters--most of those glowing accounts of Paris and planned travels, although I had no intention of traveling. I had actually seen very little of Paris; without guide book I simply came upon