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July 1961

Lost--One Anonymity

The Post Office was communications center in this little seaside resort, and the good folks there really carried the message

AT six-thirty on Friday evening my husband arrived for the week end. During the hour-and-a-half trip from the city he'd been jammed vertically into a train bearing a thousand other week-end commuters to the beach. He was hot and tired. He was laden with packages, mostly items I had requested, including five pounds of kidneys for the cats.


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