Everyone turned around to see who had repeated it, but there was no one in sight. Docky chuckled.
Kate was speaking vivaciously to Miriam until she caught Drewena’s eye, whereupon she merely shrugged her strong bare shoulders and turned petulantly away. The moment of ensuing silence was broken by Patsy’s high-pitched tremulo, which seemed to be growing weaker.
“Miss Murphy!” she shouted feebly.
Miss Murphy did not wait for Drewena’s welcome. She flew into the room in a state of deshabille, her black lace dress torn slightly on the shoulder, her corsage of gardenias darkening around the edges as though they had been crushed in a heavy fist.
“Oh, my God!” she said, breathing heavily as Drewena comforted her.
Kate stole a glance at Miriam and whispered, “Doing the taxis again!” Then she took a glass to the newcomer.
“Drink this, Sophie,” she began, when the other turned on her, stamping her foot and pulling the torn lace back over her shoulder.
“Don’t you dare offer me any of that sickening, frothy slop!” she cried. “I want a straight one, or I’ll just die!”
Kate lifted the glass and drained it.