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Modernism was a brief divagation into difficulty; but Richard was still out there, in difficulty.

And he would tell you that quite frankly, raising his pentimento eyebrows and tensing his upper lip with a certain laconic pride.

the old super-pub with its sticky chandeliers and sodden carpet, its contrapuntal rock videos and the thick bank of dole-quaffing fruit machines

behind a mephitic banquette of cigarette smoke

the proud, moistened, middle-distance stare of a man who believes himself to have been gravely and perhaps insupportably traduced.