"Nothing cheap or vulgar about it, you know. I think that party in which the guests were drenched with a hose and the one in which they dressed as vegetables were slightly lacking in originality. True, the hosepipe party had a stirring climax when the pretty hostess appeared in a silk bathing suit and allowed herself to be ducked by her admirers in her own bath tub; still dear, I shouldn't care for that sort of a sensation."
"I think I'd draw the line at that myself. I promise you something better."
"Of course that bathing-suit luncheon at Newport last summer was a stunning affair. The women certainly made a hit. But I can't quite figure my wife appearing in it."
Nan lifted her eyebrows:
"I promise you faithfully not to appear in a bathing suit."
"Just one more pet aversion, dear," Bivens smiled. "You won't have any kind of an animal party, will you?"
"There'll be many kinds of animals present if they could only be accurately catalogued."
"I mean, particularly, monkeys. You know that monkey party got on my nerves. I mix with bulls and bears every day down in Wall Street. And all sorts of reptiles crawl among those big buildings—but when I had to shake hands with that monkey dressed in immaculate evening clothes sitting at a table sipping champagne, I thought they were pushing family history a little too far. Maybe our ancestors were monkeys all right, but the less said about it the better."
"I promise," Nan laughed.
"Then good luck, and remember the sky's the limit."