She could hear birds calling.
Spring was in the air.
Where was Martin?
VII It was the first dress rehearsal of "The Ukelele Girl," to be produced "under the personal direction of Stanwood Mosely." The piece had been in rehearsal for eleven weeks.
The curtain had been up on the second act for an hour.

Scene designers, scene painters and scene shifters were standing about with a stage director, whose raucous voice cut the fuggy atmosphere incessantly in what was intended to represent the exterior of a hotel at Monte Carlo.
It more nearly resembled the materialization of a dope fiend's dream of an opium factory.

What might have been a bank building in Utopia, an old Spanish galleon in drydock, or the exterior of a German beer garden according to the cover of Vogue occupied the center of the scene.

The bricks were violet and old gold, sprayed with tomato juice and marked by the indeterminate silver tracks of snails.

Pillars, modeled on the sugar-stick posts that advertise barber's shops, ran up and lost themselves among the flies.