Ladies and Gentlemen

“Humphphe-e-e!” Mr. Golightly got his breath back, as a diver emerging from an ice-water bath might. “Did you say grateful?”

“Of course, you dear old stupid! It seems – listen to this, Ephie – it seems that Mr. Pewter-Walsberg saw a copy of that adorable magazine on the news-stand this morning and saw your name on the cover and bought it out of curiosity and he read what it said about you and he was so delighted with it that he didn’t wait until tonight to show it to her – Mrs. Pewter-Walsberg, I mean. He came right on uptown with it and read it to her. And she says – they both say, in fact – it took a great strong silent resolute man like you to see that the trend of the day is for democracy; and that it’s high time the lower orders who aren’t in society should know that there are no barriers to keep out those who rise by their own efforts from humble beginnings, but just the other way around; and that when ordinary people find out how far you’ve climbed – your position in business and our position in society and all – it’s calculated to make them more satisfied with their lot and keep down anarchy and socialism and all such dreadful things. And she says Mr. Pewter-Walsberg will take it as a very great favor if you can arrange for these clever magazine people to interview him next – it seems they started forty years ago without a cent out in Illinois or some such outlandish place. Think of it, dear – a man like Herbert Pewter-Walsberg, with a hundred and fifty millions behind him – asking for a favor from you! Isn’t it just too wonderful?.. Hold the wire, Ephie, the girls are here waiting to congratulate you on being so smart in their behalf and to beg your pardon, as I do, for being so sort of excited as we all three were last night. But they didn’t understand then, and neither did I. But now we do, and we do so appreciate it all – you splendid brilliant shrewd old darling, you! Ephie dearest, tell me this – how did you ever come to figure out such a marvelous stroke of genius all by yourself?”

“Maria,” answered Mr. Golightly, and, as he answered, his chest expanded perceptibly and brushed against the edge of his desk, “if you’d been in the pressed-brick game as long as I have, you’d know there are several ways of killing a cat besides choking it to death with butter.”