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I had always thought that theinfirmity in question confined the patient in an absolutely safe shell aslimpid and strong as shatterproof glass, within which no shame or sham couldexist
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Icaught myself enjoying the frequent parties at which good old Noteboke andhis sister Phoneme, the delightful Kings, the Adamsons, my favorite poet,and a dozen other people did all they could to entertain and comfort me.After fifty summers, or ten thousand hours, of sunbathing in variouscountries, on beaches, benches, roofs, rocks, decks, ledges, lawns, boards,and balconies.In the music room the boy was now cacophonically dusting the keys ofthe Bechstein as with less zest I resumed my nudist rambles.
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