Oh yes, that came 12 pages after this – here's one of the suitors speaking : "Certainly," said Miss LaFosse, demurely. And, well, I do think when it comes to marriage it's safer to stick with your own nationality." I don't like to jump to conclusions but I think there was a little Jew in him. "Now the first one, he was kind too," said Miss Pettigrew earnestly, "but well, my dear. I was motoring through this book and thinking it was kind of a British counterpart to Anita Loos' Gentlemen Prefer Blondes – well, actually, it was The Monkees to Anita Loos' Beatles, but still good fun, as The Monkees are, when Miss Pettigrew on page 162 offers some advice to Miss LaFosse, who is trying to choose between two suitors : What do you do? Stop the party? Denounce your friend? Turn a lovely evening into a memorable horror-show about which people will wince for years? This sweet little cute little naughty little novel from 1938, with its nudity, its cocaine and its multiple sexual partners (all before page 20) unfortunately throws me into the old quandary which goes – what if you're in the middle of a grand evening with some of your best pals and you're as happy as Larry, whoever he was, having a great time, and then one of them out of the blue makes a racist remark?
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