When his mama had ventured in the most amiable way to remark on her occasional free and easy ways, he had pokered up at once and declared that it was her very lack of pretension which he found most engaging.
The bar where we're playing — a dank little hole in Manhattan's East Village that attracts a following every three years or so when some young fauxhemian discovers the place and writes about it for Time Out New York or The Village Voice, usually under a catchy headline like Dives We Love — is quiet, almost empty if you don't count the regulars.
discovers
Dives We Love
We have further, in Mr. Harrison's pamphlet, a supertranscendent instance of procreation and fecundity; fecundity and procreation.
He took her arm to guide her through the Saturday evening crowds.
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