Herbert and I walked about the H-shaped mansion as if we were tourists visiting a European palace of old. Through the arched entryway, painted ceilings rose twenty feet above our heads, before us a curving marble staircase rose in the shape of a heart. The opulence struck us dumb. The same could not be said for those in the ballroom. Conversation abounded, riotous laughter exploded, especially that of Harry Lehr. We followed it.
It was the largest ballroom in Newport, occupying the entire central area of the ground floor. It glimmered and shimmered, as did those who stood below its trompe-l"oel ceiling of painted clouds and its perfumed chandeliers. As I entered the fray, I couldn"t help but think of Ginevra. Tonight, like so many that had come before, she accompanied me. Already I pictur
