Manuscript, page 1. Transcription follows image.
Page 1, Selvage Ms
William Faulkner Foundation Collection, 1918-1959, Accession #6074 to 6074-d, Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections,
University of Virginia Library, Charlottesville, Va.   [Item Metadata: "Elly" ("Selvage") Autograph manuscript, 7 p. (6 R, 1 V) on 6 l.]



Against the sheer drop of the precipice the railing looked like a child-toy, following the curve in thread-thin embrace, passing
the car with a flimsy blur.

"Would that be deep enough?" she said.

He glanced toward her. She was leaning a little over the side of the car. Then he looked back to the road. "Oh," he said. "Quite."

"That little old fence wouldn't stop anything, would it?"

"Quite," he said. Then the blur of the railing flicked behind like a <ribb> taut ribbon snipped in two.

The low smoke of the city came into sight.

"Paul," she said. "Why wont you marry me?"

"No," he said. He passed a car. "Nobody's been hurt. You're not. And unless you tell Jared. <You> But you're not hurt. You're
not in love with me. You never were, not even then. Least of all, then."

The traffic was thicker, and the signs – the hotels, the garages, the patent medicines.

"Anyway, you can be proud you seduced me, for a couple of days, cant you?" she said. "I suppose a matter of seducing
girls a month before their marriage is a two-day's interest, even <now> to you, isn't it? Left Jefferson with a virgin, reached
<Memphis> Birmingham with a fallen sister. Isn't that nice?" He put the brakes on, removing one hand from the wheel. She was looking at
him. "Have we a flat tire?" she said in a cold contemptuous voice. The car lurched on, gaining speed.

They entered the city. Suddenly he leaned and looked at her before she could veil her eyes. "Dont worry," he said. "I wont
contaminate them. I'm going to the hotel."

"What good will that do?" she said. "Grandmother will have to ride back to Jefferson in the same car with you tomorrow." Then she
said, "No, no. I wasn't even — Of course you'll stay <here tonight, not> out here tonight. I'm master of my own soul for a
little while longer. I am not anybody's wife yet."

They were [skirting?] the park. At the next corner a street intersected it. "This the street?" he said.

"Yes." Suddenly she said in a fainting voice: "Paul. Paul. You're not a nigger. You're not. I dont care."

They turned the corner. "Which house?"

"That one. Paul."

The car began to slow, drawing into the curb.

"All day tomorrow we'll have to drive back to Jefferson with her between us. And mother will have telephoned that Jared and I are
on the way.
[margin: that we left home before daylight.]
And now it will be you and grandmother will know."

"Know what?" he said. "Come on. Get out. There's your aunt looking out the window."

"How can I make them see that it was because I've got to get married. Promised Jared, and mother and daddy, and bought the
clothes and all. That's why I did it. <But they cant see that it doesn't matter, and you wont make them. You wont even try. Why wont>