“I wasn’t cross,” I said. “I just thought perhaps I was going to throw up.”
“Your fiancée is having a great success,” Mrs. Braddocks looked out on the floor where Georgette was dancing in the arms of the tall, dark one, called Lett.
“Isn’t she?” I said.
“Rather,” said Mrs. Braddocks.
Cohn came up. “Come on, Jake,” he said, “have a drink.” We walked over to the bar. “What’s the matter with you? You seem all worked up over something?”
“Nothing. This whole show makes me sick is all.”
Brett came up to the bar.
“Hello, you chaps.”
“Hello, Brett,” I said. “Why aren’t you tight?”
“Never going to get tight any more. I say, give a chap a brandy and soda.”