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Well, of course, we were amused to see the group. My professor friend, the one I can't remember, introduced us to some associates. All of them were a little bit sheepish but laughing. You know, what the hell were we doing here after all?
Then the next film went on, and the reason I bring this all up is that Frank and I are now convinced that Joan Crawford was the girl in it. We had heard some nasty rumours about this--probably all untrue. The new film was really filthy. Instead of being titillated by it, I was disgusted. Halfway through I said to Frank, “I've had enough of this.” He said, “I have, too.” So the two of sneaked guiltily out. We walked up Eighth Avenue for about three blocks without saying a word. We were ashamed of ourselves and felt unclean. Frank broke the spell. He suddenly turned to me and said, “Gee, I always thought I was pretty good.” Well, in this picture the prowess of the man had been something! I can still remember the two of us standing on the sidewalk screaming with laughter. And that was the end of dirty pictures for us. I've never seen another one--and never want to!
Now, another property we came by about this time was Marcel Proust. Thomas Seltzer was Proust's American publisher then. He was a very erudite man, but not a good businessman. He was the uncle of Charles and Albert Boni. He was going out of business; he couldn't make it, and I bought from him Marcel Proust's masterwork, Remembrance of Things Past. He had always presented it in seven separate volumes. We put it into a fourvolume set and had a beautiful wooden box cover made for it.
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