Three Nested Men Who Buried the Formula
Henry Thorne caught the 7:14 from Westport every morning, and every morning he sat in the same seat — third car from the front, window on the right, facing forward — and every morning he opened his briefcase and removed the same yellow legal pad and wrote nothing. The train rocked through Connecticut, past the salt marshes and the new Levittown developments and the factory smokestacks that...
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