The crowd half-pushed, half-guided Hall to the entrance of the Ritz. He ducked into the lobby to catch his breath, bought some cigars at the stand, lit one, and then decided to have a quick drink.
Margaret Skidmore was at the bar with Giselle Prescott and a young man Hall had met at the Embassy ball. The Prescott woman was wearing an immense wheel of a white hat. She was very drunk.
"What's up?" Hall asked.
"The Reds blew up a church," Margaret said. "How are you, Matt? I heard that you were out on a monumental bender. Too many women?"
"Too much alcohol." Then, to the man with the girls, "Didn't we meet at the Embassy party? My name is Hall."
"I'm the Marques de Runa."
"Spanish?"
Margaret answered for him. "No. Not exactly. The family had the title revalidated in 1930."
Giselle Prescott shuddered over an emptied glass. She whispered something about rum, romanism and rebellion.
"What's eating her?" Hall asked Margaret.