During the warm, sunny interim of the day, he often sat erect at his desk on the eighty-seventh floor like an android and stared out of the large plate-glass windows over the city and went to a place where although he could be seen and observed by the other partners and secretaries and visitors, if they happened to glance into his office, he couldn't be found.
He felt buoyed to the ceiling in the hubbub of a coney island.
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