Читать книгу Awake and Rehearse - Louis Bromfield - Страница 8

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On Sunday night the other guests were the Duchess, Vestiglione and a Russian Prince who drank far too much and seemed not quite bright. He was called Prince Puriatine. It was a nightmare of boredom, with the Russian drinking himself into utter stupidity and the Duchess and Vestiglione hating each other and competing for the favors of Miss Wannop. The lady herself seemed not to notice the squalid air of the party, but sat looking about her at the other tables. She peered through lorgnettes with an expression which was unmistakably that of satisfaction. The other tables were scarcely better than our own. There were a great many ruins like Miss Wannop’s friends, interspersed among tremendously fat women in pince-nez and yards of passementerie, who wore rather the same expression of satisfaction as bloomed upon the delicate cheek of Miss Wannop. They were certain that at last they were moving in the great world of Europe. There were titles, too, on every side. I am certain of it. There were all the titles my mother had laughed at so many times, for here at last was the heart of that lost world which we had never believed existed.

In the morning I read in the Herald, “Among those who entertained as the unusually brilliant dinner at the Ritz was Miss Savina Wannop, who had as her guests the Prince de S——, the Duchesse de Venterollo, the Marquis de Vestiglione and the Prince Puriatine....”

I felt somehow that I had been publicly soiled.