On a wicker table a copy of Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past. “How far’d you get into it?” he asked her. “To Within a Budding Grove.” Kathy double-locked the door after them and set into operation some kind of electronic gadget; he did not recognize it. “That’s not very far,” Jason said. Taking off her plastic coat, Kathy asked, “How far did you get into it?” She hung her coat in a tiny closet, taking his, too. “I never read it,” Jason said. “But on my program we did a dramatic rendering of a scene . . . I don’t know which. We got a lot of good mail about it, but we never tried it again.
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