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The last weeks of the campaign were a mad whirl of doorknocking, letterboxing, fundraising dinners, and talking to the media. The Tooth Fairy and I battled each other around the suburban streets. We both sent special letters to particular areas -- about the proposed Housing Commission development at Manly Vale, the beach pollution at Harbord, an Italian letter for the ethnic community at Brookvale.

There was another Wran Dinner, this time at the Harbord Diggers, at which the ranks of the party faithful were swelled by hundreds of enthusiastic supporters, cheering us on to victory. Tom Webster and I acknowledged their support like seasoned veterans.

We were spending far more than in the last campaign, and the money was rolling in from functions and donations. The policy committee was flat out devising copy for the full page ads that John Morrison had booked. New material was being letterboxed almost every day. Our little army was fully mobilised, with each volunteer allotted a task according to a giant plot which Alf Thorpe had erected in the "command post" in the back room of my office in Manly. As well, we had rented a campaign office at Manly Vale, the new area which we felt was most in the balance.

Nevertheless, Meers was outspending us by more than five to one. There was a limit to the space that was available in the  Daily, and to the amount of paper

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