[in this corner of camp today, there is an angel (whose feet may or may not be touching the ground, it's funny, but lo and behold there are the wings and everything) in the middle of a tirade. the object of his NON-AFFECTIONS is a smooth-looking man in a tux who might
Ping You a Lot depending on how sensitive you are to things like . . . the Devil
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I was quite certain my exchange with Mrs. Sayre did not involve any of the host. . . well, I suppose that is accurate enough.
[and, since you can't be left out, that isn't fair:]
"We"? I don't believe Duma is here.
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More angels get.
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The Fellow Formerly Known as Angel.
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Oh, dear--we'll begin soon enough. I didn't expect to have this to deal with.
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