They were just yellow roses--big ones--in a glass vase. I yanked out
the bridge table, batted the bridge lamp around, sat, and bent into it.
6
Yvonne came through the connecting doors about one o'clock. I was still
bent--bent enough so it took a moment to turn and straighten after she
said, "Hello, Svengali!"
She was drunk. Not happy-drunk, or mean-drunk, either. Nervous-drunk.
"Your pure relation left me," she said.
"Left you how?"
"Left me in this condition. Buy me a Scotch."