'Right about what?' Alice said from the foot of the spiral stairway, and fell into the living-room like Bette Davis, bigeyed and calisthenical and strictly sharp. She was togged in a flowing royal-purple chiffon evening gown with silver trimmings and a low square-cut neck that showed the tops of her creamy-white breasts with the darker disturbing seam down between; and her hair was swept up on top of her head in a turbulent billow and held by two silver combs that matched the silver trimmings of her gown-a tall willowy body falling to the floor with nothing but curves. Black elbow-length gloves showed a strip of creamy round arm. I gave her one look and caught an edge like a rash from head to foot, blinding and stinging. She was fine, fine, fine, so help me.

She must have caught it in that instant before I got it under control, for she blushed, and before she cut it off she showed me it was there. Then she smiled complacently and said, 'Thank you, darling. You look very nice yourself.' In her best social worker's voice. Everything went. It really and truly let me down.

'We're certainly going to be the people if we keep on trying,' I said. 'Either that or some reasonable facsimiles.'

Neither of them got it and I let it go. 'We were just talking about the Negro problem, and I was telling your mother she was right,' I explained as Alice came across the room and perched on the arm of my chair. 'I got a drink for you, honey,' I said, handing her the highball from the cocktail table.

Alice wasn't going to be concerned about the Negro problem. 'Mother, Loretta Fischer has bought a new mink coat,' she said as if positively shocked. 'I don't see how she does it.'

'I suppose Loretta will be the grand lady if William goes to Congress at ten thousand a year,' Mrs. Harrison said; then she turned to me. 'You know, Loretta's people never had anything and her mother worked in service to give her an education. Now that William is making a little money she's spending every penny.'