Scrabble, Anonymous - The Paris Review

The letters which ‘continually came to me’ yesterday were of the kind which are sent out alphabetically. Some from the deathly sweet centres of charity printed on shiny paper, gold-edged — a ball was to be given in aid of this or that, So-and-so’s well-known band would blare out, and some of the balance from the evening’s high boredom would finally

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