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"
You
see
,
"
said
Dick
smugly
,
"
I
’
m
the
only
one
.
"
Rosemary
was
quite
sure
of
it
and
Dick
,
realizing
that
he
never
had
a
better
audience
,
made
the
group
into
so
bright
a
unit
that
Rosemary
felt
an
impatient
disregard
for
all
who
were
not
at
their
table
.
They
had
been
two
days
in
Paris
but
actually
they
were
still
under
the
beach
umbrella
.
When
,
as
at
the
ball
of
the
Corps
des
Pages
the
night
before
,
the
surroundings
seemed
formidable
to
Rosemary
,
who
had
yet
to
attend
a
Mayfair
party
in
Hollywood
,
Dick
would
bring
the
scene
within
range
by
greeting
a
few
people
,
a
sort
of
selection
—
the
Divers
seemed
to
have
a
large
acquaintance
,
but
it
was
always
as
if
the
person
had
not
seen
them
for
a
long
,
long
time
,
and
was
utterly
bowled
over
,
"
Why
,
where
do
you
KEEP
yourselves
?
"
—
and
then
re
-
create
the
unity
of
his
own
party
by
destroying
the
outsiders
softly
but
permanently
with
an
ironic
coup
de
grâce
.
Presently
Rosemary
seemed
to
have
known
those
people
herself
in
some
deplorable
past
,
and
then
got
on
to
them
,
rejected
them
,
discarded
them
.
Their
own
party
was
overwhelmingly
American
and
sometimes
scarcely
American
at
all
.
It
was
themselves
he
gave
back
to
them
,
blurred
by
the
compromises
of
how
many
years
.
Into
the
dark
,
smoky
restaurant
,
smelling
of
the
rich
raw
foods
on
the
buffet
,
slid
Nicole
’
s
sky
-
blue
suit
like
a
stray
segment
of
the
weather
outside
.
Seeing
from
their
eyes
how
beautiful
she
was
,
she
thanked
them
with
a
smile
of
radiant
appreciation
.
They
were
all
very
nice
people
for
a
while
,
very
courteous
and
all
that
.
Then
they
grew
tired
of
it
and
they
were
funny
and
bitter
,
and
finally
they
made
a
lot
of
plans
.
They
laughed
at
things
that
they
would
not
remember
clearly
afterward
—
laughed
a
lot
and
the
men
drank
three
bottles
of
wine
.
The
trio
of
women
at
the
table
were
representative
of
the
enormous
flux
of
American
life
.
Nicole
was
the
granddaughter
of
a
self
-
made
American
capitalist
and
the
granddaughter
of
a
Count
of
the
House
of
Lippe
Weissenfeld
.
Mary
North
was
the
daughter
of
a
journeyman
paper
-
hanger
and
a
descendant
of
President
Tyler
.
Rosemary
was
from
the
middle
of
the
middle
class
,
catapulted
by
her
mother
onto
the
uncharted
heights
of
Hollywood
.
Their
point
of
resemblance
to
each
other
and
their
difference
from
so
many
American
women
,
lay
in
the
fact
that
they
were
all
happy
to
exist
in
a
man
’
s
world
—
they
preserved
their
individuality
through
men
and
not
by
opposition
to
them
.
They
would
all
three
have
made
alternatively
good
courtesans
or
good
wives
not
by
the
accident
of
birth
but
through
the
greater
accident
of
finding
their
man
or
not
finding
him
.
So
Rosemary
found
it
a
pleasant
party
,
that
luncheon
,
nicer
in
that
there
were
only
seven
people
,
about
the
limit
of
a
good
party
.
Perhaps
,
too
,
the
fact
that
she
was
new
to
their
world
acted
as
a
sort
of
catalytic
agent
to
precipitate
out
all
their
old
reservations
about
one
another
.
After
the
table
broke
up
,
a
waiter
directed
Rosemary
back
into
the
dark
hinterland
of
all
French
restaurants
,
where
she
looked
up
a
phone
number
by
a
dim
orange
bulb
,
and
called
Franco
-
American
Films
.
Sure
,
they
had
a
print
of
"
Daddy
’
s
Girl
"
—
it
was
out
for
the
moment
,
but
they
would
run
it
off
later
in
the
week
for
her
at
341
Rue
des
Saintes
Anges
—
ask
for
Mr
.
Crowder
.
The
semi
-
booth
gave
on
the
vestiaire
and
as
Rosemary
hung
up
the
receiver
she
heard
two
low
voices
not
five
feet
from
her
on
the
other
side
of
a
row
of
coats
.
"
—
So
you
love
me
?
"
"
Oh
,
DO
I
!
"
It
Was
Nicole
—
Rosemary
hesitated
in
the
door
of
the
booth
—
then
she
heard
Dick
say
:
