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Chapter 2

           TodaywewenttoBerne,itwassonicewiththeclocks.

           Todayweclimbedhighenoughtofindasphodelandedelweiss...

           Afterthattheletterswerefewer,butheansweredthemall.Therewasone:

           IwishsomeonewereinlovewithmelikeboyswereagesagobeforeIwassick.Isupposeitwillbeyears,though,beforeIcouldthinkofanythinglikethat.

           ButwhenDick’sanswerwasdelayedforanyreason,therewasaflutteringburstofworrylikeaworryofalover:"PerhapsIhaveboredyou,"and:"AfraidIhavepresumed,"and:"Ikeepthinkingatnightyouhavebeensick."

           InactualityDickwassickwiththeflu.Whenherecovered,allexcepttheformalpartofhiscorrespondencewassacrificedtotheconsequentfatigue,andshortlyafterwardthememoryofherbecameoverlaidbythevividpresenceofaWisconsintelephonegirlatheadquartersinBar-sur-Aube.Shewasred-lippedlikeaposter,andknownobscenelyinthemessesas"TheSwitchboard."

           Franzcamebackintohisofficefeelingself-important.Dickthoughthewouldprobablybeafineclinician,forthesonorousorstaccatocadencesbywhichhedisciplinednurseorpatientcamenotfromhisnervoussystembutfromatremendousandharmlessvanity.Histrueemotionsweremoreorderedandkepttohimself.

           "Nowaboutthegirl,Dick,"hesaid."Ofcourse,Iwanttofindoutaboutyouandtellyouaboutmyself,butfirstaboutthegirl,becauseIhavebeenwaitingtotellyouaboutitsolong."

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