The Wallbuilder's Dream
The champagne in my glass had gone warm, and I did not care. Around me, the great hall of the Vanderbilt mansion pulsed with music and laughter, a symphony of saxophones and clinking glasses that rose like a tide against the windows of Long Island. I stood near a pillar in the corner, as I always did, watching the world through the lens of a man who belonged to it only partially, like a man...
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