The love scenes at the last were poignantly real, but they passed before his eyes unnoticed.
Bud's mind was dwelling upon certain love scenes of his own.

He was feeling Marie's presence beside him there in the dusk.
"Poor kid--she wasn't so much to blame," he muttered just above his breath, when the screen was swept clean and blank at the end of the last reel.
"Huh?
Oh, he was the big mutt, right from the start," Frank replied with the assured air of a connoisseur.

"He didn't have the brains of a bluejay, or he'd have known all the time she was strong for him." "I guess that's right," Bud mumbled, but he did not mean what Frank thought he meant.

"Let's go.

I want a drink." Frank was willing enough; too willing, if the truth were known.