Letterwriting is the natural outlet of the “odds.” The busy-bodies, the idle, the perverted, the cranks, the feel-it-my-duties … Also the plain depraved. They all write letters. It’s their safe outlet, you see. They can be as interfering, as long-winded, as obscene, as pompous, as one-idea’d, as they like on paper, and no one can kick them for it. So they write. My God, how they write!
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