Odd Numbers. Ford Sewell
with us. Really, we would.”
She was a good natured old girl, grandmother was. She says she’ll try it; but only on one condition. It was a corker, too. If she’s going to give all her good friends at the actors’ boardin’ house the shake, she thinks it ought to be done at a farewell dinner at the swellest place in town. Vincent groans; but he has to give in. And that’s how it happens the other night that about two dozen liberty people walked up from Appetite Row and fed themselves off Sherry’s gold plates until the waiters was weak in the knees watchin’ ’em.
“Is the old lady still leadin’ the band wagon, Vincent!” says I to him yesterday.
“She is,” says he, “and it is wonderful how young she has grown.”
“New York is a great place for rejuvenatin’ grandmothers,” says I, “specially around in the Red Ink Zone.”
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