“Gramercy Park. We’ll put up at a club. We’ll act rich and take a taxi.”
She ordered the driver to go down the avenue slowly, and as he jolted around the crowded corner of Forty-second Street, on to the smooth asphalt, Bambi leaned forward eagerly.
“Good evening, home of the books,” she nodded to the Library. “Good evening, Mrs. New York, and all you people there! We’re here, Jarvis and I.”
She turned and caught his rare smile.
“You’re happy, aren’t you?” he remarked.
“Perfectly. I feel as if I were breathing electricity. Don’t you like all these people?”
“No, I feel that there are too many of them. There should be half as many, and better done. Until we learn not to breed like rabbits, we will never accomplish a creditable race.”
“Such good-looking rabbits though, Jarvis.”
“Yes. Sleek and empty-headed.”
“All hopping uptown, to nibble something,” she chuckled.
“Life is such foolishness,” he said, in disgust.
“Oh, no. Life is such ecstasy,” she threw back at him, as the cab drew up to the clubhouse door.
