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Dinner at the Lobster House in Cape May. Actually, it wasn't at the Lobster House but on the schooner American moored to the dock behind it. And it wasn't a proper dinner. It was martinis with platter after platter of oysters Rockefeller and clams casino.
The uncreated conscience of my race will just have to wait unforged until I get back from vacation.
Above: Marianne, also suffering.
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3 comments:
And you can suffer some more, TLS-style:
http://timescolumns.typepad.com/stothard/2011/09/hope-mirrlees-and-the-forgotten-female-modernists.html
Or, perhaps, here.
Thank you,Ken! That was a pleasure to read. And a reminder that I've got a review to write when I get back home.
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