“Unattractive. God! He looked like an unwashed Bela Lugosi.”
Mary Jane threw back her head and roared. “Marvellous,” she said, coming back into drinking position.
“Gimme your glass,” Eloise said, swinging her stockinged feet to the floor and standing up. “Honestly, that dope. I did everything but get Lew to make love to her to get her to come out here with us. Now I’m sorry I—Where’d you get that thing?”
“This?” said Mary Jane, touching a cameo brooch at her throat. “I had it at school, for goodness sake. It was Mother’s.”
“God,” Eloise said, with the empty glasses in her hands. “I don’t have one damn thing holy to wear. If Lew’s mother ever dies—ha, ha—she’ll probably leave me some old monogrammed icepick or something.”
“How’re you getting along with her these days, anyway?”
“Don’t be funny,” Eloise said on her way to the kitchen.
“This is positively the last one for me!” Mary Jane called after her.
“Like hell it is. Who called who? And who came two hours late? You’re gonna stick around till I’m sick of you. The hell with your lousy career.”
Mary Jane threw back her head and roared again, but Eloise had already gone into the kitchen.