_“I saw a man pursuing the horizon; Round and round they sped. I was disturbed at this; I accosted the man. ‘It is futile,’ I said, ‘You can never--’ ‘You lie,’ he cried, And ran on.”_ A low gray-green fog had crept over New York: the houses stood like boulders in a stream. Two dim figures fled from the street, ran through a hall and up the stairs.…
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