When she's been a year in New York she'll be as gay--as gay as an L road." He celebrated a satisfaction they both had in the L roads.

"They kill the streets and avenues, but at least they partially hide them, and that is some comfort; and they do triumph over their prostrate forms with a savage exultation that is intoxicating.
Those bends in the L that you get in the corner of Washington Square, or just below the Cooper Institute--they're the gayest things in the world.
Perfectly atrocious, of course, but incomparably picturesque! And the whole city is so," said March, "or else the L would never have got built here.

New York may be splendidly gay or squalidly gay; but, prince or pauper, it's gay always." "Yes, gay is the word," she admitted, with a sigh.

"But frantic.

I can't get used to it.