person who gave concerts in Russia, who had adopted Munich
as his home, who was the husband of this Olga person, and
the father of a ridiculously German looking baby in a very
German looking dress, all lace and tucks, and wearing
bracelets on its chubby arms, and a locket round its neck.
That was what one might expect of Olga's baby. But not of
Theodore's. Besides, what business had that boy with a
baby, anyway? Himself a baby.

Fenger had arranged for her cabin, and she rather resented
its luxury until she learned later, that it is the buyers
who always occupy the staterooms de luxe on ocean liners.
She learned, too, that the men in yachting caps and white
flannels, and the women in the smartest and most subdued of
blue serge and furs were not millionaires temporarily
deprived of their own private seagoing craft, but buyers
like herself, shrewd, aggressive, wise and incredibly
endowed with savoir faire. Merely to watch one of them
dealing with a deck steward was to know for all time the
superiority of mind over matter.

Most incongruously, it was Ella Monahan and Clarence Heyl
who waved good-by to her as her ship swung clear of the
dock. Ella was in New York on her monthly trip. Heyl had
appeared at the hotel as Fanny was adjusting her veil and
casting a last rather wild look around the room. Molly
Brandeis had been the kind of woman who never misses a train
or overlooks a hairpin. Fanny's early training had proved
invaluable more than once in the last two years.
Nevertheless, she was rather flustered, for her, as the