How a woman could have hair that red, maracas that melony, a waist that narrow, hips that round and legs that long was something on the level of the truly miraculous. Her lips were like strawberries, her eyes green and forever. Everywhere she went, it might as well be sparing. “Virginia, you look so wonderful, darling,” said Owney. “Cocktail?” “Fabulous,” said Virginia. “Martini?” “Absolutely dah-vine, sugar. Dip the olives in the vermouth, that’ll be quite enough.” “Yes, my dear,” said Owney. “Ralph, you heard Miss Virginia. Care to come out on the terrace? It’s lovely and the view is quite spectacular.” “Of course. But I want you to show me around. What a fabulous place. It’s so New York here. It’s a little bit of New York in the heart of little old Arkansas, I do declare!” “We try, darling. We try so hard.” “Oh, birds! I never would have guessed.” They walked to his pigeons, cooing and lowing in their little cages. “They’re adorable.
