QUES: Charlie Y. Reader is a 35-year-old theatrical agent in New York , living a seemingly idyllic life as a bachelor . Numerous women ( among them Poppy , Helen , and Jessica come and go , cleaning and cooking for him . Charlie 's best friend since kindergarten , Joe McCall , who has a wife named Ethel and children in Indianapolis , comes to New York for a stay at Charlie 's apartment , claiming that the excitement is gone from his 11-year marriage and that he wants to leave his wife . Joe envies and is amazed by Charlie 's parade of girlfriends , while Charlie professes admiration for Joe 's married life and family . At an audition , Charlie meets singer-actress Julie Gillis . She has her life planned to a tight schedule , determined to marry and retire from performing to a life of child-rearing by 22 . Although at first she wards off Charlie 's advances , she comes to see him as the ideal man for her plans . Julie demands that Charlie stop seeing other women . Charlie balks , but he begins to fall in love with her . Joe starts keeping company with Sylvia Crewes , a sophisticated classical musician and a typically neglected lover of Charlie 's . Sylvia is approaching 33 and desires marriage as much as the younger Julie does . One day , annoyed by Julie and possibly jealous of Joe 's attentions , Charlie blurts out a proposal of marriage to Sylvia . She is thrilled , only to discover the morning after their engagement party that he has proposed to Julie as well . Joe confesses his love to Sylvia and asks her to marry him .
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION: What is Charlie's role at the audition where he meets Julie Gillis?

QUES: Nathan read the package of words in silence, his only motions the steady progress of his eyes and occasional replacement of pages. Allan sat nervously across from him in a chair Nathan had probably upholstered himself, a patchwork design of fabric containing easily more stuffing than any other furniture item of the period. At long last, Nathan reached the end and set down his reading on the table between them. Allan leaned forward unconsciously. "It's the best story you've ever written." Allan exhaled and leaned back into the chair, his face relaxing in imitation of his thoughts. "So," he asked, "you don't think it's a waste of ink and paper, a futile expedition into morbidity or literary debauchery?" "Heavens, no," said Nathan, aghast. "This is one of the strongest works I've read in ages. It speaks to the deepest storyteller's instinct within us all, yet is entirely original. My dear friend, you have done it. Oh, they may rail against you at first; they may decry you as a heathen or a literary savage; but while those in power say such things, others will read your tales and see their true worth. Believe me when I say that you will be read a century from now." Allan, though dubious as to that possibility, felt some temptation from the compliment; mainly, it granted him the encouragement he still needed. Nathan promised to show the story to a printer he knew and Allan left it with him, then walked home under the spreading maples with a smile lingering on his face. He felt now that perhaps Nathan was right; although the man was somewhat peculiar, he had both an unimpeachable honesty and a certain propensity for insight. Certainly, it was undeniable that the stories had an originality to them. His mind's strangest fruit had ripened at last, and he found the taste less bitter than expected. These thoughts and others like them filled his head as he walked the long road home. It was evening, and the sky burned orange in the west when he neared home at last.
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION: What is Nathan reading?

QUES: Elettra stuck the little slip of paper, on which the recipe was written, into her shabby pocket-book without looking at it. She could read and write fairly well, and had been used to helping her husband the under-steward with his accounts at Muro, but even if she had looked at the recipe she would have understood nothing of the doctor's hieroglyphics and abbreviated Latin words. The prescription was for a preparation of arsenic, which Matilde had formerly taken for some time. The chemist would not make any difficulty about preparing twenty doses of it for the Countess Macomer, though the whole quantity of arsenic contained in so many would probably be sufficient to kill one not accustomed to the medicine, if taken all at once. But though Matilde was so anxious to have the stuff before luncheon, she had a number of doses of it put away in a drawer, which she took out and counted, after Elettra had gone. She opened one of the little folded papers and looked at the fine white powder it contained, took a little on the end of her finger and tasted it. Then, from the same drawer, she took a package done up in coarser paper, and opened it likewise, looked at it, smelt it, and touched it with the tip of her tongue very cautiously indeed. It was white, too, but coarser than the medicine. She was very careful in tasting it, and she immediately rinsed her mouth with water, before she tied up the package again, shut the drawer, and put the key into her pocket.
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION:
What did the arsenic look like?