Again my father's Scotch groom at the Sands Point estate. Again a little chorus girl who told me that life consisted of putting square pegs into round holes. I loved her until we fornicated one evening. I never saw her again.
"I'll tell you about me: I love music, old paintings, the smell of verbena, salt sea air, a rare heavy gray sky and modern music. I envy Austin Dobson, W. S. Gilbert and Gelett Burgess. I envy Lee Shubert. Why, I do not know. And I envy you."
"Why?"
"When you are not much older, you will no longer notice the obvious. You will seek inner meanings. Poor me! I shall always be a surface swimmer—money—fame—fame and money.
"By the way, I had an old friend sample a case of Hencken Troncken off a German boat. If it hasn't turned sour, we'll drink a toast to 'Sweeter Than Sweet.'"
"What's that?"
"The name of my new show and what life ought to be but somehow never is."
The following Monday rehearsals began. To the assembled company the story of "Sweeter Than Sweet" was not new, yet they chuckled and roared as Howard Vee read it to them. A wise script, a musical show that mocked life, merry graceful tunes, enchanting lyrics. They were gay, these actors. They went to work with light hearts. The show, they were certain, would be a success.
Ken devoted himself unstintingly to his task. He memorized his lines quickly. He marvelled as scenes developed in the hurly-burly of rehearsal. He was mystified by the energy which radiated from Howard Vee. The young
