That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. "I don't know; I really don't know. I gather you wish to go up in some fantastic get-up, wrapped about in your opera cloak, and that after the festivities you propose to stay with these friends of yours, and without any older people in your party, at an hotel. My only love is for my poor lost son. Once he chuckled aloud. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street.
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