I thought about her.
These things—and how she was still that same calm girl.
And how could I tell her, that perhaps it was my turn?
Gradually I got myself into the tub again.
I shaved, then.
We are all afraid of Five O'clock Shadow. Such fears, indeed, have become paramount for most of us.
Yuts.
What was Paul's idiom?
Cipher-faces—standing around waiting for somebody to put a minus one in front of them. Hitler, Stalin, or Huey Long. Zero-pusses, he called them. Zed-mugs. Neck-heads. Neonightmares. Two-legged negatives.
I shaved, thinking I was positive, anyhow. Wait till they focused their bright peepers on that biopsy!