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Updated: May 4, 2025
LATER: I shall now go on with my recitle. As the theater was almost emty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during Act One I had thought that he perhaps felt my presense, he had not once looked directly at me. But the hat captured his erant gaze, as one may say.
At first I was merely astonished. Then a sense of loss overpowered me. I suffered. I was prostrated with grief. Not that I cared a Rap for the clothes I'd lost, being most of them to small and patched here and there. But I had lost the plot of my Play. My Career was gone. I was undone. It may be asked what has this Recitle to do with the account of meeting a Celebrity.
"But I gather," he said, when at last the recitle was over, "that you have never met the met him." "Not in the ordinery use of the word," I remarked. "But then it is not an ordinery situation. We have met and we have not. Our eyes have spoken, if not our vocal chords." Seeing his eyes on me I added, "if you do not beleive that Soul can cry unto Soul, Carter, I shall go no further."
I reply that it has a great deal to do with it. A bare recitle of a meeting may be News, but it is not Art. A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. This is still the Introduction. When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had happened.
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