The Moment Before Boiling: A Gilded Man's Unmaking
The pressure had been building for fifty-two years, and Augustus Winthrop III could feel it in his teeth. Not pain, exactly — more like the hum of a locomotive idling on the tracks, a vibration that never quite stopped, that seeped into the enamel and the jaw and the bones beneath. His dentist, a Dr. Pendergast who kept offices on Madison Avenue with velvet curtains the color of dried blood,...
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