New Yorkers, who disregard nature until it makes more noise than the subway, paid scant attention to the snow that was falling when they awakened one day last week. The day was almost mild (29°), the sky was a conservative shade of grey and the wind breathed as apologetically as a Japanese diplomat. The snowflakes themselves descended in a silent and orderly manner, like letters dropping down a mail chute in a good trust company. It was mid-afternoon before the average citizen began to notice how heavily the smothering snow was falling (it averaged 1.8 inches per hour).
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