new play? Marna Frost hoped he would now devote his talents exclusively to further the development of the Pueblo Indian. Philip Lawrence whispered cynically, You've got the boobs going, kid. Anything you want you can have now. Imperia smiled imperially as she remarked sweetly, I picked you, didn't I, Ambrose? Don't you think you owe me something in return? Capa Nolin contented herself with winking broadly. Herbert Ringrose and Livermore Bode spoke as if the Judgment Day had been successfully filmed. And these, and many more acquaintances, were abetted by ever so many strangers, film-folk and towns-folk, who wished to shake the great man's hand and thus partake of the mystic celebration.
Ambrose was obdurate in his refusal to attend a party to be given in his honour at the Montmartre. Georgiana, surprisingly, made no effort to compel him to go. So, at last, they made their escape from this raucous medley of personalities, this group of indissoluble egos, and drove back in silence to the Ambassador. The floor of their suite was piled high with boxes of flowers. Some that had been delivered without wrappers were already in vases. They were scarcely more than aware of this phenomenon when a boy delivered a sheaf of telegrams.
