“To Gibson?”
“No to a real painter.”
“By Gad I’ll buy it.”
“Maybe you wont have a chance.”
She nodded her blond pompadour at him.
“You’re a wicked little tease, Olga.”
She laughed keeping her lips tight over her long teeth.
A man was leaning towards the man with the diamond stud, tapping with a stubby finger on the table.
“No sir as a real estate proposition, Twentythird Street has crashed.... That’s generally admitted.... But what I want to talk to you about privately sometime Mr. Godalming, is this.... How’s all the big money in New York been made? Astor, Vanderbilt, Fish.... In real estate of course. Now it’s up to us to get in on the next great clean-up.... It’s almost here.... Buy Forty....”
The man with the diamond stud raised one eyebrow and shook his head. “For one night on Beauty’s lap, O put gross care away ... or something of the sort.... Waiter why in holy hell are you so long with the champagne?” He got to his feet, coughed in his hand and began to sing in his croaking voice: