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"
I
was
brought
by
a
woman
named
Roosevelt
,
"
he
continued
.
"
Mrs.
Claud
Roosevelt
.
Do
you
know
her
?
I
met
her
somewhere
last
night
.
I
've
been
drunk
for
about
a
week
now
,
and
I
thought
it
might
sober
me
up
to
sit
in
a
library
.
"
"
Has
it
?
"
"
A
little
bit
,
I
think
.
I
ca
n't
tell
yet
.
I
've
only
been
here
an
hour
.
Did
I
tell
you
about
the
books
?
They
're
real
.
They
're
--
--
"
"
You
told
us
.
"
We
shook
hands
with
him
gravely
and
went
back
outdoors
.
There
was
dancing
now
on
the
canvas
in
the
garden
;
old
men
pushing
young
girls
backward
in
eternal
graceless
circles
,
superior
couples
holding
each
other
tortuously
,
fashionably
,
and
keeping
in
the
corners
--
and
a
great
number
of
single
girls
dancing
individualistically
or
relieving
the
orchestra
for
a
moment
of
the
burden
of
the
banjo
or
the
traps
.
By
midnight
the
hilarity
had
increased
.
A
celebrated
tenor
had
sung
in
Italian
,
and
a
notorious
contralto
had
sung
in
jazz
,
and
between
the
numbers
people
were
doing
"
stunts
"
all
over
the
garden
,
while
happy
,
vacuous
bursts
of
laughter
rose
toward
the
summer
sky
.
A
pair
of
stage
twins
,
who
turned
out
to
be
the
girls
in
yellow
,
did
a
baby
act
in
costume
,
and
champagne
was
served
in
glasses
bigger
than
finger-bowls
.
The
moon
had
risen
higher
,
and
floating
in
the
Sound
was
a
triangle
of
silver
scales
,
trembling
a
little
to
the
stiff
,
tinny
drip
of
the
banjoes
on
the
lawn
.
I
was
still
with
Jordan
Baker
.
We
were
sitting
at
a
table
with
a
man
of
about
my
age
and
a
rowdy
little
girl
,
who
gave
way
upon
the
slightest
provocation
to
uncontrollable
laughter
.
I
was
enjoying
myself
now
.
I
had
taken
two
finger-bowls
of
champagne
,
and
the
scene
had
changed
before
my
eyes
into
something
significant
,
elemental
,
and
profound
.
At
a
lull
in
the
entertainment
the
man
looked
at
me
and
smiled
.
"
Your
face
is
familiar
,
"
he
said
,
politely
.
"
Were
n't
you
in
the
Third
Division
during
the
war
?
"
"
Why
,
yes
.
I
was
in
the
Ninth
Machine-gun
Battalion
.
"
