‘That’s just a story,’ I said. There was no such thing, it was just a legend, like the rumors that the Pan Club owned a preserved tail cut from the Jersey Devil and the Osiris Club held séances and kept a pet spirit. Everyone allegedly dabbled in Satanism. It was part of their parade floats and their hierarchical jousting. Whose membership included the most councilmen and millionaires. Whose membership, in aggregate, owned more property on the Main Line. Who had the strongest relationship with Beelzebub.
Besides, I didn’t care about turning lead into gold. I just wanted to get out of neighborhood Philadelphia and into Philadelphia society. That was the alchemy I wanted: the kind brewing in the gin martinis. I wanted the monthly cocktail receptions, the spring equinox party, the summer cot
