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Updated: June 25, 2025
For, alas! even the men of her own entourage were now gravitating toward the Cardross family; Van Tassel Cuyp was continually wrinkling his nose and fixing his dead-blue eyes in that direction; little Colonel Vetchen circled busily round and round that centre of attraction, even Courtlandt Classon evinced an inclination to toddle that way.
No guilty man escapes; even Courtlandt Classon is meditating treachery to me, and Mr. Cuyp has long been wavering and Gussie Vetchen too! the wretch!... We poor women try hard to like her but, Garry, is it human to love such a girl?" "It's divine, Constance, so you'll like her." "Oh, yes; thank you.
It was the second time he had heard that comment, and he found it unaccountably distasteful. His aunt looked up, smiling. "Can't we dine together, Garry?" "Yes." "Thank you, dear" faintly ironical. "So now if you'll go I'll reveal myself to Gussie Vetchen. Stand aside, my condescending friend." He said, smiling: "You're the prettiest revelation here. I'll be at the hotel at eight."
"That infernal Louis," he complained, waving his fat cigar, "hasn't written one line to me in a week! What the deuce is he doing down there in town? I won't stand it! The ice is out and Wayward and Cuyp and Vetchen are coming up for the fishing; and Mrs. Ascott, perhaps, is coming, and Miss Palliser, and, I hope, Miss Suydam; that makes our eight for Bridge, you see, with you and me.
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