“Oh, Charley! Is that what the list of names is about?” I felt the press of defeat as if a mountain had collapsed upon me.
“What do you think they are?” asked Charley.
“Marriage candidates.”
“Not the older generation,” said Charley after again pausing to consider her words. Charley still had her impulsive moments but she had become a good deal more circumspect since her absence from New York. “Far too well-guarded. Also, already married, mostly. If one is to worship at the temple of the great god Mammon, one should have no less regard to what is proper and comme il faut than one would for any of the other laws of Old New York, yes? The better option would be the younger generation waiting in the wings, don’t you think? Lower-hanging fruit.”
“Is that really why you’ve allowed yourself t
