"Francesca, you do inspire them."
"I'm a vain little peacock, and Jarvis never notices how I look."
"Too bad to mate a peacock and an owl."
A brilliant sunset bathed the avenue in a red, gold light. The steady procession of motors, taxis, and hansom cabs made its slow way uptown. The shop windows blazed in their most seductive moments. The sidewalks were crowded with smart men; fashionable women swathed in magnificent furs; slim, little pink-cheeked girls. All of them made their way up the broad highroad toward home or tea, as the case might be.
"Oh, you blessed fleshpots, how I adore you!"
"Referring to the men or the women?"
"Naughty Richard! I mean all the luxury and sensuousness which New York represents."
"You hungry little beggar, how you do eat up your sensations!"
"They give me indigestion sometimes."
The foyer of the Plaza was like a reception. The tea-room was a-clatter and a-clack with tongues.