Hollywood by Gore Vidal Read Free Book Online

inevitable tug of consanguinity. But then Emma was indifferent to most people; she was withdrawn, self-absorbed, neutral. She read books of physics as if they were novels. Surprisingly, the one person that she had liked was Caroline’s husband of convenience; of course she had thought that John Sanford was her father. But as he was now dead, that was that. Caroline did find it unusual—even unfeminine—that Emma had never once noticed the physical resemblance between herself and her mother’s old friend James Burden Day. But then Emma never looked at a mirror in order to see herself as opposed to hair or hat.
    “She’s made friends with the Roosevelt girl.” At the fireplace, Alice was holding forth to cousin Eleanor, whose patient smile was beginning to resemble Medusa’s petrifying rictus.
    “Hard to imagine, a
Democratic
Roosevelt.” Burden stared at the cousins, alike in appearance, unlike in character.
    “What do you think of him?”
    Burden shrugged. “He doesn’t come my way. He’s a bit too charming, I’d say. He’s also too much the warrior. He can’t wait to get us in.”
    “You can?”
    “I’m a Bryan Democrat. Remember?” Burden stretched his arms, as if measuring them for a cross of gold. “The war’s not popular where I come from. Maybe the Easterners should go and fight it and let us stay home …”
    “And fight Mexico?”
    “Well, at least we’d get some loot out of it. There’s nothing for us in Europe except trouble.” Mrs. Harding marched by, Jesse Smith two paces behind her. She greeted Burden; then affixed herself to the Russian ambassador, Bakhmeteff, whose wife was the aunt of Ned McLean, Caroline’s friendly competitor at the
Post
    “Now
he
has a problem. Warren Harding, that is.” Burden took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It had been Caroline’s idea for Mrs. Bingham to break with Washington tradition and serve champagne as well as the inevitable tea and heavy cake. Official Washington was gratified except for such devoted teetotalers as Josephus Daniels, who had gone so far as to ban wine from the officers’ mess of the Navy. Currently, Mrs. Daniels was notorious for having presided over a tea where
onion sandwiches
had been served. She would never live that down was Mrs. Bingham’s considered judgment. Even in Washington there were limits to vulgarity.
    “Are there so many hyphenates in Ohio?” Caroline found the whole problem of German-Americans and Irish-Americans fascinating. The Administration found it alarming. If the United States went to war with Germany, how would a million or so German-speaking American citizens respond?
    “No more than I’ve got, proportionately. But Harding’s got one, a lady friend, who’s a dragon, they say. She’s threatened to expose him …”
    “Expose him?”
    “Both of them. She’ll tell all if he votes for war with her native land.”
    “That is unusual.
Cherchez le pays.
”
    “Senators are known by the women they keep.” Burden grinned. “Actually, he’s a nice fellow, if you don’t count his speeches.”
    “That’s what we say about all of you. Except Senator Lodge. We like his speeches. It’s he that …” They were then joined by Mrs. Bingham, blind eyes agleam with excitement. “Mr. Tumulty’s here. From the White House. You’re being called back, Senator. All of you. All Congress.”
    “Called back for what?” Burden looked, again, his age; and Caroline decided not to have another child—by him.
    “A special session. To receive a communication by the Executive on Grave Questions of Internal Policy. Those are Mr. Wilson’s very words. I’m sure it’s war at last. So exciting, isn’t it?”
    Caroline’s heart began to pound—from excitement? Burden’s face was suddenly ruddy. “I’m sure it isn’t war just yet. When is the special session?”
    “April sixteenth, Mr. Tumulty says.”
    Burden looked relieved. “That gives us a month. Plenty can happen.”
    “Plenty is