Myron Kane had come back on the national scene after his notorious run-in with the military about evading censorship in the Near East. I’d read about him in a column syndicated from New York:
Another foreign commentator has decided fairer fields are closer home. Myron Kane, pal of princes, potentates and premiers—but not generals—is around town. He’s doing a piece for a national-circulation weekly on a Quaker City celeb. May be dull, may be a libel suit, depending on what table in snob Rittenhouse Square he picks his crumbs up at.
That was in November, and when I got back home to Georgetown for the Christmas holidays, I found a letter from Myron on my desk. It said:
Dear Grace: I understand you have relatives by marriage in Philadelphia. If they include, or you otherwise know, that ecce
