Chapter 36: Sunday the Third

⁠​​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​⁠Dinky-Dunk has at least the sensibilities to respect my privacy of life. He knows where the deadline is, and doesn't disregard it. But it's terribly hard to be tragic in a two-by-four shack. You miss the dignifying touches. And you haven't much leeway for the bulky swings of grandeur.

For one whole day I didn't speak to Dinky-Dunk, didn't even so much as recognize his existence. I ate by myself, an