The plot sickens.
IN THE STANDISH
mansion's vast reception hall, a high-tone charity function is going on, featuring the local youth symphonette. The second trombone seat is empty.
HARVEY
flubs a low note.
Continued
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Mrs. Belva Standish occupies the seat of honor, front and center. She holds the antique ivory telephone to her ear. The symphonette is playing a soft bit, and her shriek echoes all over the place.
"Raleigh Standish the Fourth! Who is that little boy you're with?"
This draws stares, gasps and harrumphs from the audience, and snickers from the players.
"That sounds like Mrs. Coventry's little grandson!"
That very woman happens to be seated next to Mrs. Standish. Ignoring the concert, she bends another old lady's ear with her only topic.
"My husband didn't compromise his political principles. Not at all. He just saw no further reason to be in the SDS when the Vietnam war ended..."
