The early edition was full of dreadful news. Those who crept aboard the train at seven, clutching newspapers, were grim-faced and somber. They made hurried plans to take their money from the bank and have a last desperate fling; or tell their fathers, finally, what they thought of them.
The late edition beamed with joy: all the stocks up, the plays hits, the troops home. The nine o’clock commuters spilled from their trains dancing, hugging complete strangers. They noticed the bodies of the earlier commuters, impaled by despair; but their own frenzy of delight was in no way dimmed.
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