Then I saw, two rows ahead of us, a young man with his arm around his girl, and I wanted to put my arm around Miss Kinnian.
Terrifying. But if I did it slowly... first resting my arm on the back of her seat... moving up... inch by inch...
to rest near her shoulders and the back of her neck... casually...
I didn't dare. The best I could do was rest my elbow on the back of her seat,
but by the time I got there I had to shift position to wipe the perspiration off my face and neck.
Once, her leg accidentally brushed against mine. It became such an ordeal—so painful—that I forced myself to take my mind off her.
The first picture had been a war film, and all I caught was the ending where the G.I. goes back to Europe to marry the woman who saved his life.
The second picture interested me. A psychological film about a man and woman apparently in love but actually destroying each other.
Everything suggests that the man is going to kill his wife
but at the last moment, something she screams out in a nightmare makes him recall something that happened to him during his childhood.
The sudden memory shows him that his hatred is really directed at a depraved governess
who had terrified him with frightening stories and left a flaw in his personality.
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