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Chunk 1

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end_line
1022
extracted_at
2026-01-27T17:14:35.244Z
extracted_by
structure-extraction-lambda
start_line
983
text
940 6 941 Some things are hard to remember. I'm thinking now of when Stradlater got back 942 from his date with Jane. I mean I can't remember exactly what I was doing when I heard 943 his goddam stupid footsteps coming down the corridor. I probably was still looking out 944 the window, but I swear I can't remember. I was so damn worried, that's why. When I 945 really worry about something, I don't just fool around. I even have to go to the bathroom 946 when I worry about something. Only, I don't go. I'm too worried to go. I don't want to 947 interrupt my worrying to go. If you knew Stradlater, you'd have been worried, too. I'd 948 double-dated with that bastard a couple of times, and I know what I'm talking about. He 949 was unscrupulous. He really was. 950 Anyway, the corridor was all linoleum and all, and you could hear his goddam 951 footsteps coming right towards the room. I don't even remember where I was sitting when 952 he came in--at the window, or in my chair or his. I swear I can't remember. 953 He came in griping about how cold it was out. Then he said, "Where the hell is 954 everybody? It's like a goddam morgue around here." I didn't even bother to answer him. 955 If he was so goddam stupid not to realize it was Saturday night and everybody was out or 956 asleep or home for the week end, I wasn't going to break my neck telling him. He started 957 getting undressed. He didn't say one goddam word about Jane. Not one. Neither did I. I 958 just watched him. All he did was thank me for letting him wear my hound's-tooth. He 959 hung it up on a hanger and put it in the closet. 960 Then when he was taking off his tie, he asked me if I'd written his goddam 961 composition for him. I told him it was over on his goddam bed. He walked over and read 962 it while he was unbuttoning his shirt. He stood there, reading it, and sort of stroking his 963 bare chest and stomach, with this very stupid expression on his face. He was always 964 stroking his stomach or his chest. He was mad about himself. 965 All of a sudden, he said, "For Chrissake, Holden. This is about a goddam baseball 966 glove." 967 "So what?" I said. Cold as hell. 968 "Wuddaya mean so what? I told ya it had to be about a goddam room or a house 969 or something." 970 "You said it had to be descriptive. What the hell's the difference if it's about a 971 baseball glove?" 972 "God damn it." He was sore as hell. He was really furious. "You always do 973 everything backasswards." He looked at me. "No wonder you're flunking the hell out of 974 here," he said. "You don't do one damn thing the way you're supposed to. I mean it. Not 975 one damn thing." 976 "All right, give it back to me, then," I said. I went over and pulled it right out of 977 his goddam hand. Then I tore it up. 978 "What the hellja do that for?" he said.
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Chunk 1

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