The psychology of the protagonist is expressed beautifully. We are made to understand a textured concoction of personal thought whilst asked to engage in the emotional melee.


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A New Leaf

Saturday Evening Post (4 July 1931)

I

It was the first day warm enough to eat outdoors in the Bois de Boulogne, while chestnut blossoms slanted down across the tables and dropped impudently into the butter and the wine. Julia Ross ate a few with her bread and listened to the big goldfish rippling in the pool and the sparrows whirring about an abandoned table. You could see everybody again — the waiters with their professional faces, the watchful Frenchwomen all heels and eyes, Phil Hoffman opposite her with his heart balanced on his fork, and the extraordinarily handsome man just coming out on the terrace.

— the purple noon’s transparent might.

The breath of the moist air is light

Around each unexpanded bud — (more…)