The third chapter from the end, where our correspondence
Marg:
is published entire.
What?
-11:
Yes, all the letters you sent me and those I sent you
Marg:
are included in the novel.
I see, But, pardon me, where did you get those you sent me?
Gil:
I've got them.
I know that. But, you see, I had the habit of always
Marg.
making a rough draft.
A rough draft?
Gil:
Yes.
Marg:
Adieh drafti Those letters which seemed to have been
Gil.
dashed off in such tremulous haste. "Just one word,
dearest, before I go to bed? My eyelids are heavy...."
and when your eyelids were closed you wrote the whole
thing over agsin.
Marg:-Aro you piquod about it?
Gil: I might have expected as much. I ought to be glad, however
that they wer'nt bought from a professional leve-letter
written. Oh, how everything begins to grumblei The whole
past is nothing but a heap of ruins. She had a sough
draft of her letters!
Marg: Be content. Maybe my letters will be all that will remain
immortal of your memory.
Gil: And along with them will remain the fatal story.
Marg: Why?
Gil: (indieating his book) Because they also appear in my book
Marg: Es In where?
Gil: In my novel.
Marg: What?
Gil: Our letters--yours and mine.
Marg: Where did you get your own? I've got them in my possession.
Ah, so you too made an original draft.