It was a room almost the width of the house, with a balcony at one end
hung in a shah's silk prayer rug, and a stone fireplace, out of the
Davanziti palace, opposite. Three sets of leaded doors opened out on to
a flagged parapet that overlooked the Hudson and beyond the deep purple
of perfect September.
They met in a little group at one of these doors, and Lilly noticed
gratefully that Mrs. Enlow had thrown a net wrap over the formality of
her evening gown and that Bruce had merely changed to flannels.
He smiled at her with that impersonal sort of kindness which could cause
such a gush of blood to her heart, and spread himself in a playful
salaam before Zoe.
"Princess."
She held out her hand to be kissed, which he did five times, finger by
finger.
"These terraces," said Lilly, trying not to be heavy, "are like the
setting for an Aegean romance."
He smiled back at her again through the new film across his eyes.
"Write it and I'll produce it."
"Close the doors, Dicky; it's growing chilly," said Mrs. Enlow.
"Yes," said Lilly, shivering a bit, "chilly."
"And I'm burning, Dicky, Tickey Tavey," cried Zoe, applying the name
audaciously.
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