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At the far end of the long table, Doc Phillips had come back He advanced no further but, with a sharp jerk of his head, indicated that he wanted Groc to follow

Groc took his ti his napkin on his little rosebud s of cold milk, crossed his knife and fork on his plate, and scraht, then said, “Not Titanic, Ozymandias is more like it!” and ran out

“Why,” said Roy, after a uff about ?”

“He’s good,” said Fritz Wong “Conrad Veidt, small size I’ll use that little son of a bitch in my next film”

“What did he mean by Ozymandias?” I asked

16

All the rest of the afternoon Roy kept shoving his head into ers

“Empty!” he cried “No Beast!”

I yanked paper from my typewriter “Empty! Also no Beast!”

But at last, at ten o’clock that night, Roy drove us to the Brown Derby

On the way I read aloud the first half of “Ozymandias”

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert … Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,