The champagne at the Algonquin Club bubbled with a particular kind of optimism that only existed in
The champagne at the Algonquin Club bubbled with a particular kind of optimism that only existed in New York between 1924 and 1929. Jack Morrison stood at the bar on the forty-second floor of a building that did not appear on any city map, watching the lights of Manhattan stretch out below him like a circuit board made of diamonds. He was twenty-eight years old and he had three hundred dollars...
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