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out of my teeth.  Every time I think about the quiet way I got hooked into that bunch at 15 E. 57th I kick myself.  As with a whore once touched there is no escape without humiliation, and to remain is death.  One can only bend his head & walk away, paying the price of the unwary.  And try to forget the catcalls of the SS corporals, the denunciations of the high priests, and the hypocrisy of the queen, while one runs the gantlet of obscene grins and cocked fingers.  An old, old story.

Dorothy said she would send me a copy of a certain book by Holger Cahill.  I am looking forward to its arrival.

By the way, when that picture becomes a total burden to your lives roll it up and put it away in the basement til I get back.  I still feel guilty of its enormous imposition on your front room.  Oh, oh, I am told that I am due to take a walk through Chinatown with a pair of young blondes, who send there Christmas greetings because even if they haven't met you they heard that you were good friends of their dad.  So there it is.  A very high time to both of you and a roaring '54 to all

Yours,
[[signature]]
Clyff

3 A Varennes St
San Francisco, 11

P.S. Briggs lives now at 254 Water St.
Just in case you want to get in touch with him.
C.

P.P.S. I still get letters from Reinhardt.
They are still in the wastebasket, unopened.
Probably I should send them back, or forward
them to friends.  Will hold just in case---
C.