“I feel like I’m in The Great Gatsby,” Griselda declared. “What with the view of the harbor and the docks and the two of us out here in our formal dresses, drinking cocktails.” “You read The Great Gatsby?” Marjorie asked in surprise. “Yeah, you think I only read movie star magazines? I read romances, too and I liked Gatsby. I liked Love on the Adriatic and The Longshore Girl better, but Gatsby was okay. I could understand Daisy Buchanan, loving one man but marrying the man who could give her a better life.” “My detective hat is off,” Marjorie prefaced, “So, anything you say is strictly in confidence, but you did marry Mr. Ashcroft for his money, didn’t you?” “Honestly? I loved Richie; I still do. He treated me better than any man I’ve ever been with and I’m going to miss him something terrible. But, the truth is, I was never ‘in love’ with him. It’s probably just as well I wasn’t, otherwise the things he said and did would have hurt me a lot more.”
