“Clive Brook. Oh, dear, he’s wearing the most godawful waistcoat. Look.”
“Tasty, I think. Pour me some tea, that’s a good girl.”
“Why do you think you are going crazy? I want some more chocolate cake. Where is that girl?”
“She’ll be here in a minute.... Because I keep forgetting things: today I forgot to say anything to my people all the way back to Puye. I didn’t go to sleep exactly: I just forgot. I didn’t tell them to turn their tickets in to the office and Margaret was furious because she had to call up all the rooms, and some of them weren’t in their rooms and she had to write dozens of notes.”
“Lazy old thing. It’ll do her good. I get those vague streaks sometimes myself.”
“Oh, you, it’s always a hangover with you.... Who’s that across the street?”
Gin stood up to see over the drapes. “It’s that new fiancee of Bill Trewarth’s. She comes from Carolina or somewhere.”
“She looks cute. I wonder what it would be like to go visiting for a whole summer just because you are somebody’s fiancee.”
“I think it would feel very musty. You would be going to teas with his mother most of the time and on Sunday if you were very good he’d take you out to watch the polo.”
Flo powdered her nose and considered. “I think it would be nice,” she said. “No responsibility.”