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87 Jan At Sea. It began back in August, when up in the woods ^[[in a canoe one night]], I first [[strikethrough]] heard [[/strikethrough]] ^[[realized]] that [[strikethrough]] war was declared! [[/strikethrough]] ^[[the world was [[strikethrough]] at [[/strikethrough]] fighting.]] It grew in me, like some disease which could not be uprooted. It drove me mad. It tore [[strikethrough]] at [[/strikethrough]] me. [[strikethrough]] and [[/strikethrough]] ^[[It]] yelled to be noticed. The first actual form that it took was sailing up to Newport one still, [[strikethrough]] moon light night [[/strikethrough]] ^[[afternoon]] on the Warrior. I expressed it awkwardly and in no coherent form to Rollie. [[circled]] At times it [[/circled]] left me. Finding no encouragement from Harry, only to return a greater need, a more insistant cry. It never took the form of trained nursing, of mufflers or masseuses. Luckily for me [[strikethrough]] I could think in bigger coin [[/strikethrough]] ^[[it did not have to,]] but whatever the expression, towards the beginning of October I knew that if I meant to have peace, I must listen to it. Then came a moment of entire indifference and I was possessed only with the dread that the