"You and Vida come with us and we'll stop for breakfast at Childs'," Clem said.
What a crazy night, Lucy thought. I come to a party with a man I think I'm in love with and I don't care when he walks out and leaves without me because I want someone else to take me home who hasn't asked me, so I'm going home with Vida and Clem and Semy as though we were still in Congress and next week I'm going back to Denver and Horta Cornwallis.
"Don't anyone leave yet," beseeched Damon returning all aflutter, "there is a last Christmas tableau, and everyone must guess what it is."
"Where's Simone?" demanded Vermillion, disturbed.
"She'll be here in a minute," Damon said mysteriously.
"Really, Damon, we can't have any more Christmas nonsense," Figente objected, provoked as two of the hired Negro footmen drunkenly staggered in with a bulky rug and laid it at his feet.
With a tug the carpet unwound and from it rolled Simone and Maxine.
"The Gift of the Magi," shrieked Hal.
"Time to go, Simone," Vermillion said gently.
"Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas," screamed Hal.
"Merry Merry Merry Christmas."
Chapter 30
"ARE YOU THE ARTIST?"
"Where have you been, I've only seen you once since New Year's," Lucy said to Vida as she bit the finishing thread of a blue ribbon garter. "It's a good thing Mother doesn't see me do this, she says I'll chip a tooth. She's shopping. She can't resist January sales. I said go and see if that plain little Chanel beige crepe is still two hundred—it will look cute with your summer ermine I'm hoping—"
Vida sat scarely listening to Lucy chatting, relieved not to have to reply. How could she confess that after being told Rad Welford was another Carly she had been with him too often the past two
