1378. This was a good situation for Mrs. Festini and myself because the class had to have a minimum of seven students to be launched, and those men always made up the number, without which there would have been no sessions. After my discovery of the old photograph in Mrs. Festini's hatbox, I stayed late until after Bob the policeman finally left. That was the afternoon she told me the story of her argument with the old museum director, ten years ago.
1379. I am going to tell you her version of it, as I don't know the other side of the story. It happened long ago, but the telling of it still put a wrathful look into her face just as in that old photograph from her youth. I had known both the old Director and his secretary just because of my job at the post office, and so I was inclined to accept Mrs. Festini's account of the affair.
1380. About that old museum director: this is what I remember. He would come into the post office to purchase stamps for the correspondence of the museum. Here it was lunch time, that time of day when all the locals are trying to get things sent out before they go back to work, and in comes Mr. Aesthetics Superior-To-You, to pick out his stamps. He wants to see everything that we have on hand and proceeds to take out a magnifying glass to have a careful look.
1381. In the line people begin to grumble and to complain, but it couldn't bother him in the least because what he is doing is so important, and besides, he is hard of hearing and doesn't notice anyway. If he would just make his selection, no matter how long it took, and go away that would have been alright, but once having made his selection I would be subjected to a lecture about why he chose thus and so engraved image, as opposed to the color offset reproduction.
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