All right," he said excitedly, "beat the record. Give them something
to talk about the rest of their lives. I don't mean those poor fools in
Union Square. Their raving is pathetic. I mean the big bugs who think
they own the earth, the people who think that we are new-comers and
that this island was built for their accommodation. Give them a
knock-out."

Nan's eyes danced with excitement.

"You really mean that I may plan without counting the cost?"

"That's exactly what I mean. The man is yet to be born whose brain can
conceive the plan to spend artistically on one night's entertainment
the half I'm willing to blow in just now for such a triumph."

"I'll do my best," she answered quietly.

"Nothing cheap or vulgar about it, you know. I think that party in
which the guests were drenched with a hose and the one in which they
dressed as vegetables were slightly lacking in originality. True, the
hosepipe party had a stirring climax when the pretty hostess appeared
in a silk bathing suit and allowed herself to be ducked by her admirers
in her own bath tub; still dear, I shouldn't care for that sort of a
sensation."

"I think I'd draw the line at that myself. I promise you something
better."

"Of course that bathing-suit luncheon at Newport last summer was a
stunning affair. The women certainly made a hit. But I can't quite
figure my wife appearing in it."

Nan lifted her eyebrows:

"I promise you faithfully not to appear in a bathing suit."

"Just one more pet aversion, dear," Bivens smiled. "You won't have any
kind of an animal party, will you?"

"There'll be many kinds of animals present if they could only be
accurately catalogued."

"I mean, particularly, monkeys. You know that monkey party got on my
nerves. I mix with bulls and bears every day down in Wall Street. And
all sorts of reptiles crawl among those big buildings--but when I had
to shake hands with that monkey dressed in immaculate evening clothes
sitting at a table sipping champagne, I thought they were pushing
family history a little too far. Maybe our ancestors were monkeys all
right, but the less said about it the better."

"I promise," Nan laughed.

"Then good luck, and remember the sky's the limit."

Bivens waved her a kiss, hurried to his office and concluded a deal for
floating five millions in common stock, which cost exactly the paper on
which it was printed. His share of this loot would pay more than his
wife could spend in a year.