Ginger Horton sniffed, at no pains to hide her annoyance with this change of focus, while Agnes tried to recover the thread.
“Do have more tea, Ginger—and please tell us wherever did you get that darling little sunsuit? How perfectly clever it is!”
“You are sweet, Agnes,” said Ginger, brightening, yet seeming to imply a moment of reproach for Esther and Guy before turning her attention to the great pink tent of a sunsuit she was wearing.
“Yes, I think it’s fun, don’t you? Of course Charles did it for me.”
“Simply too adorable!” said Agnes. “Isn’t it, Guy?”
“It’s extremely attractive,” said Guy in most richly masculine and persuasive tones, and the ladies beamed all around.
** ***
One of Guy Grand’s sayings at conference was this:
“Show me the man who’s above picking up bits and pieces—and I’ll show you: a fool!”
Just so, Grand himself kept his finger in more than one peripheral pie. In 1950 he bought out Vanity Cosmetics, a large and thriving Fifth Avenue concern. He surprised staffers at Vanity by bringing in his own research chemists, from allied fields. But these staff executives, all old-timers themselves, were only waiting for reassurance, and it wasn’t long in coming when Grand spoke of fresh blood, new horizons, and thinking big.