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COLLECTIVE EPITAPH At nightfall in the early 1950s in small apartments in Manhattan before most people had TV couples in their 30s and their 40s most of them dead by now mixed cocktails for each other and wandered off inside their heads to find the War, or times before the War or things that had gone wrong that afternoon. Their talk went round and round in spirals like a fighter plane shot down by AA fire. They quarreled; drinks got ...