as she rapidly went on: Now I just can't bother with you today. I'm much too busy. I have an appointment with Schwarzstein at twelve. That'll keep me an hour. I must have tests made. I have rendezvous with the photographer and the dressmaker. A man from Photoplay is coming to interview me cooking in the kitchen. Tonight there's a preview. . . . Well, you can see I'm busy. Tomorrow I'll try to get together a dinner party for you. Today, work on my story if you feel like it. Schwarzstein's sure to buy anything you write. Or take out one of the cars. I have twelve: Pierce-Arrow, Marmon, Chrysler 80, Packard, Lincoln . . . whichever you prefer. I use the Hispano. Can you drive?
No.
It doesn't matter. There are two chauffeurs. If you do go out, remember that our climate is treacherous. Always carry an overcoat to wear in the shade or you'll catch cold. Why don't you drive down to the Casa del Mar at the beach? Or stay at home and read or sleep or stroll around in the garden. Whatever you like, but . . . her brow darkened again . . . don't talk too much to Mama. Mama means well, but she's a fool.
A new presence made itself felt in the garden, a
