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Show 138 way home together, sharing that last hour, the sweetest part of the evening. She, too, would be sharing that time with someone. With Roger. She squeezed his elbow with her fingers, communicating her feeling to him, and he looked down on her with his large, handsome face, his soft brown eyes. On the drive home she felt like talking. "You sure got involved," Roger said, "with the picture tonight." "I was really in the mood for a movie, I guess." "Well, you seem like your old self tonight." "I suppose so." She didn't, she thought, feel like her old self. Maybe she was just becoming comfortable with some new self. With some inner change she must have undergone in the past few weeks. Since Steve had started work? Or was it her talk with Katie, that day they had gone shopping? Or was it more basic than that? She didn't want to go into it. To attempt to explain it. Even to herself. She didn't think she could, anyway. "There's something about a movie," she said, "or a play-a good one-that really gets to me. I don't know. That really affects me somehow." "I know what you mean. But I look at it a little differently. To see what I can pick up." "I know that. I can feel that in you sometimes. The way you look. It's not the same as me." She was proud of him, that he did that; it was part of the specialness of him. "But then sometimes you get involved. The way I do. Like in A Long Day's Journey Into Night." "That's one hell of a play." |