EPILOGUE It snowed for Christmas--a polite six inches of powder thatmade the carollers working the streets of Sanford look like theybelonged in It's a Wonderful Lij. That's probably true. There was only a tall man with a sweatyface and a tape-recorder under his arm standing in the doorway of a bareroom. I think Jowould be glad someone's worrying.
The seat of my chair was alittle baggy, the interwoven straps a little frayed, and the old girlcanted pretty severely to the left, but there was still no place I'drather have been sitting just then. What the hel do you want to come to England in war-time for? I didn't want to come to . Nowthis little girl, walking straight up the white line and looking like amajorette leading an invisible parade. I could play it for Bill Dean and ask him what he thought itwas.
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