Imperia's mother! The girl shrieked with radiant laughter.
Isn't she?
She's her Mama. That's quite different. All the unmarried women stars in Hollywood have mamas; some even have mothers. It's a convention. The curious thing is that none of 'em have fathers. Look at Scandia Cortland, she went on, nodding towards a girl with eyes like pools of violet ink. You should meet her mama. She's got the prize of the lot. Scandia's Norwegian, but her mama can't speak Norwegian. She can't even speak English.
What does she speak?
Brooklynese. . . . The faintly amused expression on Capa Nolin's face became exaggerated. Watch Imperia, she suggested. She knows we're talking about her. She would know it even if we were really talking about some one else.
Who is the man with the glasses beside her? Ambrose demanded.
Capa Nolin laughed again. He would die, she said, if he knew anybody had asked that question. Didn't you ever hear of Livermore Bode?
Can't say I have.
Good God!
You see . . .
