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Salinger's own novel performs in this way, and that's how you would
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want to think about moments
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like on the bottom of 180.
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This is describing the bedroom of
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Seymour and Buddy as Zooey walks in.
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A stranger with a flair for cocktail party descriptive prose
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might have commented that the room, at a quick glance,
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looked as if it had once been tenanted by two struggling
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twelve-year-old lawyers or researchists.
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And then if you flip back to-- let's see--172 describing Zooey's
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sweaty shirt, "His shirt was, in the familiar phrase, wringing
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wet."