the nervous prey of Augusta Illinois, the celebrated soprano.
You're too fat, Claire, the Illinois proclaimed, to sing in public.
Claire Madrilena met her tormentor's eye. I've needed my body so little in my career, she retorted.
Pretty good. The ubiquitous Florizel Hammond was nudging Campaspe. Pretty fair. The Illinois has ostermoored her way into four opera houses, but no one has ever before expressed the fact so neatly.
Hello, 'paspe, Jack Draycott hailed them as they entered the library. Hello! You've trapped the lion!
He was thirsty, too.
I've got a bottle of fine old brandy, 1804, somewhere, Mr. Humphry Pollanger was explaining. Would you care to sample it?
Would we care to? Jack echoed mockingly. Bring it forth, old chap.
As his host departed on his mission of cheer, Jack demanded, who was that fellow, 'paspe?
Mrs. Lorillard did not reply. Fascinated, she was listening again to the indefatigable Florizel Hammond.
Speaking of brandy, that one was saying, Eddie Blue has got it cached all over his place down at Montauk Point, brandy and Burgundy and everything you can think of, all the best years, too. He was the only man in America to take prohibition
