Church　of　the　Epiphany　（　I　could　continue　this　list　indefinitely）；　and　for　that　matter　I　am　probably　occupying　the　very　room　that　any　number　of　exalted　and　somewise　memorable　characters　sat　in；　some　of　them　on　hot；　breathless　afternoons；　lonely　and　private　and　full　of　their　own　sense　of　emanations3　from　without。

When　I　went　down　to　lunch　a　few　minutes　ago　I　noticed　that　the　man　sitting　next　to　me　（about　eighteen　inches　away　along　the　wall）　was　Fred　Stone。　The　eighteen　inches　were　both　the　connection　and　the　separation　that　New　York　provides　for　its　inhabitants。　My　only　connection　with　Fred　Stone　was　that　I　saw　him　in　The　Wizard　of　Oz　around　the　beginning　of　the　century。　But　our　waiter　felt　the　same　stimulus　from　being　close　to　a　man　from　Oz；　and　after　Mr。　Stone　left　the　room　the　waiter　told　me　that　when　he　（the　waiter）　was　a　young　man　just　arrived　in　this　country　and　before　he　could　understand　a　word　of　English；　he　had　taken　his　girl　for　their　first　theater　date　to　The　Wizard　of　Oz。　It　was　a　wonderful　show；　the　waiter　recalled—a　man　of　straw；　a　man　of　tin。　Wonderful！（And　still　only　eighteen　inches　away。　）　“Mr。　Stone　is　a　very　hearty　eater。”　said　the　waiter　thoughtfully；　content　with　this　fragile　participation　in　destiny；　this　link　with　Oz。。　最好的txt下載網

這裡是紐約（4）

New　York　blends　the　gift　of　privacy　with　the　excitement　of　participation；　and　better　than　most　dense　munities　it　succeeds　in　insulating　the　individual　（if　he　wants　it；　and　almost　everybody　wants　or　n