‘How would you like to take a long trip? To Hollywood, say?’ he said, without moving his head.

‘It’s cheap to live out there,’ she muttered, peering stiff-necked toward the group on the corner.

‘I mean for a visit. Is it true that they have maps you can buy that show where all the stars live?’

‘Beverly Hills. But we could never get enough time off for a trip like that.’

‘Can’t tell.’

‘Unless we moved out there altogether,’ she said, her voice hardly audible as they approached the group on the corner.

They were men, he could see now. He wished he could go on talking but his body was taking on a posture of intense propriety and he led Gertrude past the men in silence, looking straight ahead. They kept walking for. a minute. His mind caught the rhythm of her high heels clacking on the pavement, mingling out of time with his measured steps.

Quietly, without turning her head, she said, ‘What’d they stop talking like dial for?’

‘Did they?’

‘You recognize any of them?’

‘No.’

‘Didn’t you hear them stop talking?’

‘No, I didn’t notice anything,’ he lied unaccountably.

‘What’re they standing around in the cold for?’

‘Must have just come from some place together,’ he said.

They walked without speaking for a block.

‘Let’s think about a trip,’ she said.

He could not reply.

Stiffly they arrived at the box office of the theatre. He bought the tickets while she went into the outer lobby. He pocketed his change and met her there and they went into the darkness of the theatre. She kept holding her coat together near the neck even when they were inside. He noticed it as he followed her down the aisle.

She did not dispute the usher’s choice of seats as she sometimes did, and took the first ones pointed out to her. He followed her past the knees and they sat. She still had not taken her hand from her coat and sat there clasping it together.

It took a moment for him to catch on to the picture, which he guessed to be half finished. Gertrude faded from his concern as the screen drew his attention, and he settled back into the darkness.

A wide field, empty in early morning.

Two low bushes show up now, come closer. A man arises from behind them. He is bruised and seems to have just come out of unconsciousness.

He feels his arm and then starts walking.

He is on a road, and comes to a house which he enters. He is walking with a limp now.

Inside the house there is one room. It is a cottage on a farm. (In Europe?) a very poor hovel.

On a bed in the corner lies a form. The man walks over to it. It is a woman asleep. He looks at her a long time.

Then he covers her face with the blanket. So she is dead. He turns and thinks for a moment; now he walks out of the cottage onto the road.