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GOING CRAZY AT HARVARD They Shoot Horses . . .

"Hi. Carol."

"Bill." she said very loudly and happily. "How are you?"

"Okay. Not bad. Okay." He sat down.

"What have you been doing?"

"Working on a movie at the VAC mainly. Hanging in there."

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"Well, is there a part in it for me?" Carol asked, all tease.

Bill paused, then said much more earnestly than the situation seemed to call for: "Actually, there is. I had been meaning to call you. If you want it, it's yours."

Carol's expression changed from one of coyness to one of professionalism. "I just might want to do it," she said. "Can I think it over?"

"Sure, sure," said Bill. "Let me know anytime you decide."

Carol looked away and Bill, perhaps sensing his time was up, muttered good-bye and left. He kept his eyes glued to her as he backed away from the table. After all, Carol is one of the beautiful girls of Radcliffe.

She took a sip from her cup of coffee. I asked her if she wanted something to cat. "You're looking awfully thin," I said.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm fasting now."

"Fasting?"

"I do it for three or four days every couple of weeks. It clears out the system, makes me feel pure. I don't eat much anyway, and I've given up meat entirely."

I asked her if I could walk her anywhere, for I had to get going.

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