Music: Creature & Castanets

A slender, sparkling woman came down the gangplank of the S. S. Paris a fortnight ago, said a few fast greetings in French and moved down the pier to the luggage space allotted those whose names began with A. There were 22 trunks to be passed on, trunks filled with costumes which were white and ruffled, sleek and black, cloudy and lacey: trunks for gay mantillas, for red and green and golden slippers. Even customs officers looked their awe. Such colors, such stuffs were rare. Such charm was rare too, but at the moment...

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