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20th January

Miss Macnair:

aship again, with Father.

The appearance of wealth is at all times so bedamned
“criminal stock.”

All alike in their contempt.

belowdecks on these great filthy steamers: and though the company is cheerful

If I am to be Father’s apprentice, these lies, these manipulations
my cloak and hat.

How does anything new survive to be old, when the old is so wrought with hatred?

for all the gems in Africa;

anything but honesty with you.

Since beginning this letter I have been sick four times. I suppose it is the sea.

Your servant,
D. Buchanan