Edith had danced herself into that tired, dreamy state habitual only with débutantes, a state equivalent to the glow of a noble soul after several long highballs.

“I’m not sure what I’ll do, but— well, I want to go places and see people. I wan…”

“I won’t kiss you. It might get to be a habit and I can’t get rid of habits.”

“Show me a hero, and I'll write you a tragedy.”

“She had an air of seeming to wait, as if for a man to get through with somethin…”