At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. The woman shrugged her shoulders. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. Everything was blurred. When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily.
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