The second in order of the strip-tease performers stood beside them, dressed now in silver lame. — Rudy! the Swede said, — your dance was excruciating.
— I feel simply ghastly, Rudy said. — I've been having hot flashes all evening. What divine perfume. Have you seen a book of mine?
— It's only My Sin, I borrowed it from Agnes. Is this your book? Rudy reached for it. — But what are you doing reading Tertullian?
— For my work of course. I'm designing sports costumes for an order of nuns, and I've been told that their ears simply must be kept covered, by a very dear friend. He lent me this book, Rudy said, fondling Tertullian. — De Virginibus Velandìs, on the necessity of veiling virgins. Val told me the most divinely absurd stories this afternoon. Do you know why nuns must have their ears covered? My dear, so they won't conceive! The Virgin conceived that way, the Logos entered her ears. I have no idea what a logos is, but it doesn't sound at all nice does it. Val quoted Vergil and all sorts of dead people. Why, they all used to believe that all sorts of animals conceived that way. They thought that mares were made pregnant by the wind. And so I have to read this to really know what on earth I'm doing, covering their ears, because evil angels are waiting to do the nastiest things to them. Can you imagine conceiving on the badminton court?
— It sounds really celestial, said Big Anna. — But what perfume are you wearing?
— I can't tell you, ically. A very dear friend makes it himself. Fuisse dearn, that's what he calls it. An aroma remained, you could tell a goddess had just appeared, Rudy said, waltzing toward the dance floor.
— I'd prefer French, Big Anna muttered, looking bitterly after Rudy's silver lame. — Where is Agnes, he said, wringing his hands.
Otto was trying to order another drink. He stared on the festival with glazed eyes, and had decided for safety's sake to sit still until he could summon energy to leave. He waved with a heavy hand at a passing mulatto whose black hair stood out four inches behind his conical head in anointed streamlining, and that one was gone with his tray. Instead Cleopatra fluttered up to ask him for Maude Munk's telephone number, — because she's getting the most gorgeous baby by air mail from Sweden, and we want one so much. . With the concentration of applied memory, Otto invented a telephone number. — Do you want to dance? Cleopatra asked him. Adeline returned to the table alone. — I was dancing with some guy and he suddenly let go of me and said, You are a girl, aren't you, and left me right in the middle of the floor. See him, that big handsome boy, he looks like he went to Princeton.
— He probably did, Otto mumbled. Then he swung around at Cleopatra. — Will you get that God-damned thing out of my sling? he said, and the queen removed the asp, alarmed. — That's the cutest disguise you wear, said Cleopatra, and then, abruptly, and as indignant — Aren't you queer?
— Of course not, Otto said, indignantly unoriginal.
— What a shame, said Cleopatra. — I must find my barge.
Otto looked for Esme, did not see her. He looked for Feasley, did not see him. He was about to speak to Adeline when she left the table and went toward the dance floor saying, — I see a gentleman.
A voice said, — I've never seen so much bad silk on so many divine bodies. Another said, — Let's elope. And another, — You can't touch me, because I'm in a state of Grace. I'm going to be received tomorrow, only think! Tomorrow. .
— Pony boy, a voice crooned.
— But I thought Victoria and Albert Hall were going to be here. Have you read her book? Have you seen his play? Where are they? said Big Anna, looking, as he had each minute of the evening, nearer to weeping. — Oh Herschel! Herschel! Will you stop that singing and console me?
— What is it, baby?
— It's Agnes. She has my key.
— Yes, baby, Herschel said. He was almost immobile, but still standing. — I have to get home to work, he said in a voice which was more a liquid presence and barely escaped his throat. — Work. Work. Work.
— What work?
— Haf to write a speech. Have you ever read The Trees of Home? It stinks, baby. It's a best seller. I've been writing speeches for the author of the best seller Trees of Home, baby. Moral regeneration, insidious influences sapping our very gzzzhuu huuu I'm going down to Dutch Siam yes I am… he sang.
— I haven't seen you since the boat docked! At this, Big Anna turned around. — Victoria! Where's Albert? I'm so glad to see you baby.
— He's dancing with an archbishop. But darling tell me have you seen a tall dark girl here? Her name is Seraphina di Brescia, I just hoped she might be here, I know she's in New York. I met her at the Monocle in Paris…
— No, but have you seen Agnes? Agnes Deigh?
— You're joking, darling. Tell me, did you ever get your little what-was-his-name over from Italy?
— Little Giono! said the Swede, wringing his hands again. — No, and I've been after the immigration people, but they won't help. Why he'll be Mteen by the time I can get him over here, and he won't do for a thing. I'm going to have to adopt him, it's the only way out. But before I adopt him I have to join the Church my dear, think of it. He has to have a Catholic parent. I'm going back next week.
— To Rome?
— Oh yes, I can't bear it here a moment longer.
Otto, seeing Feasley approach, struggled to his feet. — Let's get out of here, he said. — Where are Esme? and Adeline?
— The hell with them. Just wait a minute. There's a little colored girl here I want to take along. See if you can find her while I go to the head. She's in a purple dress.
— We met in Paris, someone said, — in the Reine Blanche. .
— In the Carrousel…
— In Copenhagen. .
— The Drap Dead…
— The Boof on the Roof…
— Seraphina? The one they call Jimmy? I know she has money, but what does she spend it all on? — Don't be silly. She spends it on girls.
— Yes darling, said Adeline's dancing partner into her blond hair resting against the grosgrain lapels. — We have to follow Emerson's advice to treat people as though they were real, because, perhaps they are. .
From somewhere in the middle of the floor, in a quailing voice, — Baby and I were baked in a pie, the gravy was wonderful hot. .
— Of course there's time, Agnes Deigh's voice said, — just take the key and hurry. And don't let me forget to give you my mother's address in Rome. .
— And the address of Monseigneur Fé, he has his own chapel right near the Vatican where he performs the most divine marriage ceremonies. .