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He stayed drunk the first week. He paced up and down the apartment howling, and Mrs. Voltaire hid behind the stove. After a week he went back to the office during the day, though it was some time before he did any work.

In the elevator at five-thirty, Malcolm tells him a joke. But jokes make him feel like crying. The world is flat, everything is what it is. Tea is dark water, bread is straw, a book weighs a pound, newspapers are black and white.

He does not desire things otherwise, but his life is a tremendous exertion.…

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