The police put on their new winter uniforms; furs were displayed in carriages, automobiles, and theatres; the beauty of the florist's windows became mellower, richer, and more splendid; the jewellery in the restaurants more gorgeous.

Gotham was beginning to be its own again, jacked up by the Horse Show, the New Theatre, and the Opera; and by that energetic Advertising Trust Company with its branches, dependencies, and mergers, which is called Society, and which is a matter of eternal vigilance and desperate business instead of the relaxation of cultivated security in an accepted and acceptable order of things.
Among other minor incidents, almost local in character, the Academy and Society of American Artists opened its doors.

And the exhibition averaged as well as it ever will, as badly as it ever had averaged.
Allaire showed two portraits of fashionable women, done, this time, in the manner of Zorn, and quite as clever on the streaky surface.

Sam Ogilvy proudly displayed another mermaid--Rita in_ the tub--and two babies from photographs and "chic"-- very bad; but as usual it was very quickly marked sold.
Annan had a portrait of his sister Alice, poorly painted and even recognised by some of her more intimate friends.

Clive Gail offered one of his marines--waves splashing and dashing all over the canvas so realistically that women instinctively stepped back and lifted their skirts, and men looked vaguely around for a waiter--at least Ogilvy said so.