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"
Aren
’
t
you
a
friend
of
Van
Buren
Denby
?
"
he
would
say
.
"
I
don
’
t
believe
I
know
him
.
"
"
I
thought
you
were
a
friend
of
his
,
"
he
persisted
irritably
.
When
the
subject
of
Mr
.
Denby
fell
of
its
own
weight
,
he
essayed
other
equally
irrelative
themes
,
but
each
time
the
very
deference
of
Dick
’
s
attention
seemed
to
paralyze
him
,
and
after
a
moment
’
s
stark
pause
the
conversation
that
he
had
interrupted
would
go
on
without
him
.
He
tried
breaking
into
other
dialogues
,
but
it
was
like
continually
shaking
hands
with
a
glove
from
which
the
hand
had
been
withdrawn
—
so
finally
,
with
a
resigned
air
of
being
among
children
,
he
devoted
his
attention
entirely
to
the
champagne
.
Rosemary
’
s
glance
moved
at
intervals
around
the
table
,
eager
for
the
others
’
enjoyment
,
as
if
they
were
her
future
stepchildren
.
A
gracious
table
light
,
emanating
from
a
bowl
of
spicy
pinks
,
fell
upon
Mrs
.
Abrams
’
face
,
cooked
to
a
turn
in
Veuve
Cliquot
,
full
of
vigor
,
tolerance
,
adolescent
good
will
;
next
to
her
sat
Mr
.
Royal
Dumphry
,
his
girl
’
s
comeliness
less
startling
in
the
pleasure
world
of
evening
.
Then
Violet
McKisco
,
whose
prettiness
had
been
piped
to
the
surface
of
her
,
so
that
she
ceased
her
struggle
to
make
tangible
to
herself
her
shadowy
position
as
the
wife
of
an
arriviste
who
had
not
arrived
.
Then
came
Dick
,
with
his
arms
full
of
the
slack
he
had
taken
up
from
others
,
deeply
merged
in
his
own
party
.
Then
her
mother
,
forever
perfect
.
Then
Barban
talking
to
her
mother
with
an
urbane
fluency
that
made
Rosemary
like
him
again
.
Then
Nicole
.
Rosemary
saw
her
suddenly
in
a
new
way
and
found
her
one
of
the
most
beautiful
people
she
had
ever
known
.
Her
face
,
the
face
of
a
saint
,
a
viking
Madonna
,
shone
through
the
faint
motes
that
snowed
across
the
candlelight
,
drew
down
its
flush
from
the
wine
-
colored
lanterns
in
the
pine
.
She
was
still
as
still
.
Abe
North
was
talking
to
her
about
his
moral
code
:
"
Of
course
I
’
ve
got
one
,
"
he
insisted
,
"
—
a
man
can
’
t
live
without
a
moral
code
.
Mine
is
that
I
’
m
against
the
burning
of
witches
.
Whenever
they
burn
a
witch
I
get
all
hot
under
the
collar
.
"
Rosemary
knew
from
Brady
that
he
was
a
musician
who
after
a
brilliant
and
precocious
start
had
composed
nothing
for
seven
years
.
Next
was
Campion
,
managing
somehow
to
restrain
his
most
blatant
effeminacy
,
and
even
to
visit
upon
those
near
him
a
certain
disinterested
motherliness
.
Then
Mary
North
with
a
face
so
merry
that
it
was
impossible
not
to
smile
back
into
the
white
mirrors
of
her
teeth
—
the
whole
area
around
her
parted
lips
was
a
lovely
little
circle
of
delight
.
