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" Autograph manuscript, 11 p. (11 R, 0 V) on 11 l.]
she did. Then for an instant they would look full at one another: the old woman cold, quiet; the girl weary
Then one p.m. at the house of a girl friend she met Paul de Montigny. He was from Louisiana. <He was dark, his
"So you like him, do you?" the friend said.
"Like who?" Elly said. "I didn't notice anyone in particular
"Oh yeah:" the friend said; she was also 18. "You didn't notice his hair, then. Like a knitted cap. And his
"What are you talking about?" Elly said.
"Nothing," the other said. She glanced toward the hall, listened a moment, then she <lit a> took a cigarette from the front of
"You're lying," Elly said.
The other expelled smoke. "All right. Ask your grandmother about his family. She used to live in Louisiana."
"What about you?" Elly said. "You had him in your house."
"I wasn't hid in the cloak closet, kissing him, though."
"O yeah?" Elly said with [thin fury?]. "Maybe you couldn't."
That night she and Paul sat on the shadowed veranda. But this time when 11 struck, there was [little a bit?] and cool and withdrawn about him; she was the one who spoke now in tense and urgent whispers. "No. No! Go. Please. Please."
"Oh, come on. What are you afraid of?"
"Yes!" she said. "I'm afraid."
No. Not ever again."
"Yes," he said. "Tomorrow."
This time she did not look in when she passed her grandmother's door. Neither did she lean against her own to