Night woman [antikvár]

1Mary Eliot stood beside Randal Eliot. Hot lights were on them both, but the television cameras watched Randal, and so did crowds in evening dress, filling the Plaza Hotel with chatter.Cameras recorded Randal Eliot speaking to the mayor of New York . . . Randal Eliot and a Nobel Prize winner . . . Randal Eliot and a movie starlet. They followed him to a head table with close-ups of the cut of his rented tuxedo and sweat beginning to glisten on his bald head.The cameras were not interested in Randal Eliot's wife. Mary was left to enjoy the scent of her rose corsage. She finished her champagne and felt the secret slither of her best silk underwear against her skin. A famous writer on her left said nothing to Mary; he leaned across her to shake Randal's hand, and Mary was grateful for his cool shade. "So you're the writer who writes in a trance," he said to Randal.Dinner was the constant appearance of small amounts of delicious food on large amounts of china. Mary had hardly finished her chocolate mousse when the voices of speaker after speaker bounced wall-to-wall on the public-address3