Anything Goes

niggling at the back of her mind. It must have been something she dreamed, but she couldn’t quite pull it out of the dream part of her mind. It had struck her as important. But then, she’d once woken in the middle of the night with a Great Revelation from a dream and wrote it down on the notepad on the night table so she wouldn’t forget. In the morning she read the note, which said: Cats don’t wear clothes.
    She went downstairs and found the house seemingly deserted. Everybody else must have been napping as well on this hot, lazy summer afternoon. She finally found Robert, who’d taken a blanket out to sleep in the shade behind the kitchen. “Robert, what are we to do about Mr. Kessler?“
    “Jeepers, Lily! You scared me to death. We? Why must we do anything about him?“
    “I told you. The newspaper is losing money. Our money.“
    “It’s up to Mr. Prinney.“
    “But he doesn’t know what to do either. I have sort of an idea. Would you like to use one of our few days we’re allowed to be away to go to the City tomorrow?”
    At that, Robert finally opened his eyes and sat up. “I’d love to! Gotta catch up with the chaps at the club. Can’t go in anymore unless someone takes me as a guest, but I can waylay someone at the doorway. Let’s go early. I might be able to work in a champagne brunch and luncheon at someone else’s expense. I’ve got to find something decent to wear.“ He leaped up and headed for the house.
    “Aren’t you going to ask me what my idea is?“ Lily called after him.
    “No need. I’m sure it’s great.”
     
    “I’m afraid we’re on our own for dinner,“ Mr. Prinney said later. “My wife is having one of her headaches.“
    “I’m sorry to hear that,“ Lily said. “Is there anything I can do to help her?“
    “No. She gets one every year or so and it lasts about a day and a half. She can’t even stand up. Mimi’s looking after her.“
    “Robert and I are going to the City tomorrow. I think I might have a solution to one of our problems. But I can’t talk about it until I see an old friend.“ Early the next morning, Lily tapped lightly at Mrs. Prinney’s bedroom door. Mimi opened it and Lily said, “How is Mrs. Prinney doing?“
    “She’s feeling real bad, Miss Lily. Poor thing.“
    “Do you think you could ask her one question for me? I want to borrow her little wooden figures on the kitchen windowsill for the day.”
    Mimi disappeared for a moment and Lily could hear Mrs. Prinney’s weak voice saying fretfully, “Yes, yes, I don’t care.”
    Lily and Robert took the eight o’clock train. Robert could hardly hold still, he was so excited about getting back to town. He had the train schedule in hand and kept marking off each station as they passed along the river. This time Lily made a point of watching for Bannerman’s Island. It was a slightly closer view, but an extraordinarily fast one and didn’t inspire her with any new ideas. When they got to Grand Central Station, Lily said, “You must be back here at three, Robert. I don’t want to go back with the rush-hour crowd.”
    He bounced off, and Lily took her time. The streets were just as hot as she remembered and seemed incredibly dirty after only a few days in the country. There were distinguished-looking men selling apples on the street corners, which broke her heart. Thank God she and Robert had escaped. Then she recognized one of the apple sellers. He was her high school history teacher. He’d always been so prim and exacting and well-dressed. She greeted him by name.
    “Miss Brewster, I hope you’re well,“ he said with obvious embarrassment. “Or are you Mrs. Somebody now?“
    “No, I’m not married. But I would like an apple, please.”
    She gave him one of her precious quarters and refused the change. His expression grew angry. “I’m not on the dole, Miss Brewster.“ He slapped two dimes into her hand and turned his back on her.
    Lily was offended, but as she walked away, she realized she’d committed a faux pas that deserved censure. She wouldn’t have appreciated pity and charity. Neither did her old teacher. It was probably the last lesson he’d give her and it was a good one.
    She continued up to Fiftieth Street, where an old friend had a gallery. The friend, who was named Jimmy Anderson, but called himself the Duke of Albania, greeted her effusively.
    “My darling, darling Lily!“ He grabbed her by both arms and bestowed elaborate air kisses. “What on earth