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“I wonder how she’ll find New York,” Enid said “Having been away for so long”
“Exactly the same, Auntie,”
Philip said “You kno York never changes The characters are different, but the play remains the same”
Later that afternoon, Enid Merle was putting the finishing touches on her daily gossip coluust of wind sla the rooht of the sky and stepped outside A mountain of thunderclouds had built up on the other side of the Hudson River and was rapidly approaching the city This was unusual, Enid thought, as the early July day hadn’t been particularly hot Gazing upward, Enid spotted her neighbor Mrs Louise Houghton on her own terrace, wearing an old straw hat and holding a pair of gardening shears in her gloved hand In the last five years, Louise Houghton, as nearing one hundred, had slowed down, spendingroses “Hallo,” Enid called loudly to Mrs Houghton, as known to be slightly deaf “Looks like we’re in for a big thunderstorm”
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs Houghton said graciously, as if she were a queen addressing one of her loyal subjects Enid would have been annoyed if not for the fact that this was Mrs Houghton’s standard response to just about everyone now
“You hton’s quaint grandeur, which was off-putting to sohbors for over sixty years
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs Houghton said again, and eons that flew abruptly out of Washington Square Park, diverting her attention In the next second, the sky turned black, and rain the size of pellets began to puht of Mrs Houghton, as struggling against the rain on her spindly old legs Another strong gust of wind released a lattice screen froant old lady to her knees Lacking the strength to stand, Louise Houghton tipped sideways onto her hip, shattering the fragile bone and preventing further movement For several minutes, she lay in the rain until one of her four hton in the vast seven-thousand-square-foot apartment, ventured outside and discovered her under the lattice
Meanwhile, on the street belon Cars were slowly e When they reached One Fifth, the drivers got out and, hunched against the rain and shouting instructions and oaths, began pulling out the luggage The first piece was an old-fashioned Louis Vuitton steamer trunk that required the efforts of two men to lift Roberto, the door, and called for backup before waving the e cart with brass poles The drivers heaved the trunk onto the cart, and then one after another, each piece of e was piled on top
Down the street, a strong gust of wind ripped an u it inside out It scuttled across the pave to rest on the wheel of a shiny black SUV that had just pulled up to the entrance Spotting the passenger in the backseat, Roberto decided to brave the rain Picking up a green-and-white golf umbrella, he brandished it like a sword as he hurried out froainst the wind so as to protect the eer
A blue-and-green brocade shoe with a kitten heel appeared, followed by the fas, clad in narrohite jeans Then a hand with the slier was a large aquaot out of the car She hadn’t changed at all, Roberto thought, taking her hand to help her out “Hello, Roberto,” she said, as easily as if she’d been gone for teeks instead of twenty years “Crap weather, isn’t it?”
Act One
1
Billy Litchfield strolled by One Fifth at least twice a day He once had a dog, a Wheaten terrier, that had been given to him by Mrs
Houghton, who had raised Wheaten terriers on her estate on the Hudson Wheaty had required two outings a day to the dog run in Washington Square Park, and Billy, who lived on Fifth Avenue just north of One Fifth, had developed the habit then of walking past One Fifth as part of his daily constitutional One Fifth was one of his personal landray stone in the classic lines of the art deco era, and Billy, who had one foot in the new millennium and one foot in the café society of lore, had always ad as where you live is decent,” he said to himself, but still, he aspired to live in One Fifth He had aspired to live there for thirty-five years and had yet to make it
For a short time, Billy had decided that aspiration was dead, or at least out of favor This was just after 9/11, when the cynicish the lifeblood of the city was interpreted as unnecessary cruelty, and it was all at once tacky to wish for anything other than world peace, and tacky not to appreciate what one had But six years had passed, and like a racehorse, New York couldn’t be kept out of the gate, nor change its nature While , a secret society of bankers had brewed and stirred a giant cauldron of y, and voilà, a whole new class of the obscenely super-rich was born This was perhaps bad for Ah a self-declared anachronisular job, Billy acted as a sort of concierge to the very rich and successful,introductions to decorators, art dealers, club impresarios, and members of the boards of both cultural establishs In addition to a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of art and antiquities, Billy ell versed in the finer points of jets and yachts, knened what, where to go on vacation, and which restaurants to frequent