The February 21 issue of the Times Literary Supplement, the mighty TLS, finally reached the front porch of Hyde Cottage, and one glance at it warned me not to fault the egregious delay: this issue had clearly been dragged through street-by-street warfare in some of the world's hottest combat zones. There were boot-prints, the track-prints of heavy vehicles, huge rips and rents, with one whole side crushed as though it had been folded as a makeshift pillow for some wounded soldier.
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