stay. Prince Olaf insists upon seeing a speakeasy. And a Harlem cabaret." The supper was for an authentic scion of Scandinavian royalty. "Shall you be at the Helders' at Southampton this week-end? No?— you're sensible; it's simply deadly with the polo team in training; the men fall asleep in their chairs after dinner. Bill goes to bed at ten and gets up at five and is out all day; I might as well have married a stable boy. Oh, there are the Dickersons; I must do the civil to them, since our bread and butter depends on Julius. They're too weird, aren't they? Mrs. Dickerson is a dry, and she always has the most awful foreign guests, fourth-rate British authors and knighted British grocers, and they stay for months and talk about the League of Nations. Mr. Van Buren, do you know Katryn Wiggins; she was a Van Buren."
Jake said cautiously: "I think she is my second cousin; is she a friend of yours?"
"Are you hedging?" Polly enquired.
Jake replied ambiguously; "I haven't seen her since she was ten; I dare say she's changed considerably."
Polly had a rippling laugh, extremely effective. "Do come and see me, Mr. Van Buren; and I'll get Katryn. I'm at home every Friday after November first."
Jake bowed: "I shan't forget."
Polly progressed, with renewed aloofness, to the Dickersons, and then made her exit.
Gina missed nothing of the performance.
Sam Reynolds was an altogether unwelcome guest, but Gina had seen no way to avoid inviting him. Mrs. Siddall had an almost feudal regard for family ties, and her relatives were on all her party lists. Under the eye of his wife, Sam was behaving tolerably well; at least, so far as Gina was aware. He was talking about the Siddall Building to Julius Dickerson and Mrs. Siddall; and though it was bad form to drag in business on a social occasion, the Siddall Building outsoared its commercial aspects. It was to be the tallest building in the world. Every new skyscraper is. Mrs. Siddall had a growing pride in the project. It would be a landmark and a monument to the name. She acquired the merit of being public spirited at a profit. Half a block of long-term tenancies had recently expired, leaving the Siddall estate with obsolete buildings which wouldn't be easy to let again. Julius Dickerson had arranged to float thirty millions in bonds for a skyscraper, which would pay ground rent for the land on a fifty-year lease. Since Sam had heard of the project, he had been figuring how to get a cut on it. He said heartily to Julius Dickerson: "Why don't you sell me a few of those bonds? I've been giving 'em the once-over for a client. They look like a good thing—for somebody. The deferment and cancellation and pro-rating clauses especially. Copper riveted proposition. Safety first." He beamed at Julius. "I was thinking of dropping in on you next week, if you've got an hour to spare. Don't want to bother Charlotte about it."
"Certainly, certainly," Dickerson assented, his creased eyelids drooping. "By the way, who is your client?"
"Oh, nobody you'd remember; just one of the little fellows who take whatever securities their banks hand 'em," Sam assured him. "How about Tuesday at ten?"
"Tuesday at ten—drop me a note to remind me," Julius agreed.
Sam said: "O. K. You see, my client bought some Mexican bonds a few years ago, and it made him an investor for life. He's got 'em yet. Well, I'll be seein' you," for Dickerson was receding. . . . Sam thought, if the so-and-so doesn't declare me in on the syndicate commission, I'll tip off Jerry Delane, and we can get him on the building inspection laws, with the plans. Delane was the lad who'd been stuck with those Mexican bonds, put out by Helder & Dickerson; and he took it hard. Delane was influential in New York municipal politics, but Helder & Dickerson, one of the largest private banking houses in New York, were fairly well out of reach of local reprisals. Helder & Dickerson had weight in national and international finance; of late years they were
Jake said cautiously: "I think she is my second cousin; is she a friend of yours?"
"Are you hedging?" Polly enquired.
Jake replied ambiguously; "I haven't seen her since she was ten; I dare say she's changed considerably."
Polly had a rippling laugh, extremely effective. "Do come and see me, Mr. Van Buren; and I'll get Katryn. I'm at home every Friday after November first."
Jake bowed: "I shan't forget."
Polly progressed, with renewed aloofness, to the Dickersons, and then made her exit.
Gina missed nothing of the performance.
Sam Reynolds was an altogether unwelcome guest, but Gina had seen no way to avoid inviting him. Mrs. Siddall had an almost feudal regard for family ties, and her relatives were on all her party lists. Under the eye of his wife, Sam was behaving tolerably well; at least, so far as Gina was aware. He was talking about the Siddall Building to Julius Dickerson and Mrs. Siddall; and though it was bad form to drag in business on a social occasion, the Siddall Building outsoared its commercial aspects. It was to be the tallest building in the world. Every new skyscraper is. Mrs. Siddall had a growing pride in the project. It would be a landmark and a monument to the name. She acquired the merit of being public spirited at a profit. Half a block of long-term tenancies had recently expired, leaving the Siddall estate with obsolete buildings which wouldn't be easy to let again. Julius Dickerson had arranged to float thirty millions in bonds for a skyscraper, which would pay ground rent for the land on a fifty-year lease. Since Sam had heard of the project, he had been figuring how to get a cut on it. He said heartily to Julius Dickerson: "Why don't you sell me a few of those bonds? I've been giving 'em the once-over for a client. They look like a good thing—for somebody. The deferment and cancellation and pro-rating clauses especially. Copper riveted proposition. Safety first." He beamed at Julius. "I was thinking of dropping in on you next week, if you've got an hour to spare. Don't want to bother Charlotte about it."
"Certainly, certainly," Dickerson assented, his creased eyelids drooping. "By the way, who is your client?"
"Oh, nobody you'd remember; just one of the little fellows who take whatever securities their banks hand 'em," Sam assured him. "How about Tuesday at ten?"
"Tuesday at ten—drop me a note to remind me," Julius agreed.
Sam said: "O. K. You see, my client bought some Mexican bonds a few years ago, and it made him an investor for life. He's got 'em yet. Well, I'll be seein' you," for Dickerson was receding. . . . Sam thought, if the so-and-so doesn't declare me in on the syndicate commission, I'll tip off Jerry Delane, and we can get him on the building inspection laws, with the plans. Delane was the lad who'd been stuck with those Mexican bonds, put out by Helder & Dickerson; and he took it hard. Delane was influential in New York municipal politics, but Helder & Dickerson, one of the largest private banking houses in New York, were fairly well out of reach of local reprisals. Helder & Dickerson had weight in national and international finance; of late years they were
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