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The one that got away
THAT AFTERNOON, IN the sea-green undersea world of the House of Representatives, the bells shrilling, politicians hurrying into the chamber, the media watching scornfully from the press gallery, Whitlam looked like a whale among minnows: huge, imperturbable, impassive. I wrote in my notebook: ‘Gough sits at the centre table, spectacles perched unexpectedly on nose, poring…
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