"The parade. There was a little girl in it--" she stopped.
Fenger would not be interested in that little girl. Now
Clancy would have--but Ella broke in on that thought.

"I guess you don't realize that out in front of this hotel
there's a kind of a glorified taxi waiting, with the top
rolled back, and it's been there half an hour. I never
expect to see the time when I could enjoy keeping a taxi
waiting. It goes against me."

"I'm sorry. Really. Let's go. I'm ready."

"You are not. Your hair's a sight; and those eyes!"

Fenger put a hand on her arm. "Go on up and powder your
nose, Miss Brandeis. And don't hurry. I want you to enjoy
this drive."

On her way up in the elevator Fanny thought, "He has lost
his waistline. Now, that couldn't have happened in a month.
Queer I didn't notice it before. And he looks soft. Not
enough exercise."

When she rejoined them she was freshly bloused and gloved
and all traces of the tell-tale red had vanished from her
eyelids. Fifth avenue was impossible. Their car sped up
Madison avenue, and made for the Park. The Plaza was a jam
of tired marchers. They dispersed from there, but there
seemed no end to the line that still flowed up Fifth avenue.