He's got a swell head when it comes to brains, all right. God, he's a good straight feller, though. Nutmeg. . . So one feels. The drinks come.
Art passes cigarettes.
A girl dressed like a bare-back rider in flaming pink, makes her way through tables to the dance floor. All lights are dimmed till they seem a lush afterglow of crimson. Spotlights the girl. Liza, Little Liza Jane. Paul is rosy before his window.