"Mrs. Palm-Beach."
"Oh," says the visitor. "I've heard of her. She's always getting into the papers. Tell me more."
Miss Jacksonville purses her lips and raises her eyebrows. "Really," she says, "I don't like to talk scandal."
"Oh, come on! Do!" pleads the visitor. "Is she bad—bad and beautiful and alluring?"
"Judge for yourself," says Miss Jacksonville sharply. "She keeps that enormous place of hers shut up except for about two months or so in the winter, when she comes down gorgeously dressed, with more jewelry than is worn by the rest of the neighborhood put together. Few Southerners go to her house. It's full of rich people from all over the North."
"Is she rich?"
"You'd think so to look at her—especially if you didn't know where she got her money. But she really hasn't much of her own. She's a grafter."
"How does she manage it?"
"Men give her money."
"But why?"