She's got a lot of bores coming--intellectual ones, I mean; that's her new line, you know, and I'm not sure it ain't worse than the music.

Some of 'em have long hair, and they start an argument with the soup, and don't notice when things are handed to them.

The consequence is the dinner gets cold, and I have dyspepsia.

That silly ass Silverton brings them to the house--he writes poetry, you know, and Bertha and he are getting tremendously thick.

She could write better than any of 'em if she chose, and I don't blame her for wanting clever fellows about; all I say is: 'Don't let me see 'em eat!'" The gist of this strange communication gave Lily a distinct thrill of pleasure.