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January 30, 1926 Dear Norman, My New York days go past in a unclear whirlwind. I see? unclear people I must? see? but do not get them as quite human. It happens that in this strange place I am temporarily a guest of unclear of the unclear . It means nothing much. On the other hand I would be unclear if you were here now. Nothing could quite keep me out of the unclear and in a sense, the unclear is the purpose of my being here. The luncheon for me came off yesterday and tonight I speak. There are a thousand? unclear . The city is really very unclear and unclear so unclear unclear - as are unclear