elderly couples, dressed properly, but obviously ill at ease and uncomfortable, who Mimi learned were relatives from Iowa of Mrs. Crosby.
At the other extreme from these unsophisticated folks were several representatives of the stage, at the moment “at leisure.” Mimi had heard from Jimmie of Mr. Crosby’s recently acquired interest in the theatre. Jimmie had told the story with much archness and numerous elaborately meaningful winks—“Horace hints he may put some money into a show or two, said a man ‘ought to have other interests besides his business.’ I’d like to know what her name is and what she looks like,” Jimmie had ended his story. Between the guests from Iowa and those from Broadway ranged representatives of various groups such as can be gathered only in a city like New York. And off in one corner, surveying with wise, calm and inscrutable eyes the throng of vivaciously chatting individuals, stood the man Mimi rightly guessed to be the guest of honour, listening to Horace Crosby, who was talking with unusual volubleness.
“So glad you came, Mimi dear,” Mrs. Crosby