Free A Shade of Difference by Allen Drury

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    He decides, as he stands there by the Senate door responding with a tenth of his mind and attention to the nervous chatter of Senator Smith, that both he and Sue-Dan will stay out of it as much as possible. Patsy Labaiya and her family can whoop it up for old Terry as much as they like, but he, Cullee Hamilton, will do only the minimum that he absolutely has to; and Terry can be a white man’s pet nigger if he is willing to lend himself to the Jasons’ patronizing ways, but he, Cullee Hamilton, having been down that road and back on several occasions, will be damned if he will do the same. And he is also not disposed, given the present uncertain state of his marital situation, to encourage any stray sparks in igniting any stray dynamite that may be lying around.
    He frowns, driving Ray Smith almost frantic, and after an absent-minded expression of thanks for Ray’s help on the San Fernando Valley viaduct, meets Seab Cooley’s eyes once more, gives a polite nod which is politely returned, goes out the swinging doors of the Senate, and starts back down the long, dim marble corridor, crowded with tourists who think he is probably a clerk, to the House.
    At this final exchange of glances, five charming ladies whose presence in the Family Gallery is unnoted by the two participants exchange glances of their own and, with them, amused smiles and a significant nod or two. Beth Knox, wife of the Secretary of State, has come to the Hill to have lunch with Dolly Munson, wife of the Majority Leader. In the corridors on the street level two floors down they have, just a few moments before, run into Kitty Maudulayne, wife of the British Ambassador; Celestine Barre, wife of the French Ambassador; and Patsy Labaiya, wife of the Ambassador of Panama, dressed as always in one of her bright, garish dresses and bright, garish hats. Since no one of any prominence can be seen in Washington with anyone else of any prominence without half a dozen people immediately speculating on the significance of it all, Beth and Dolly have both been instantly struck by this odd conjunction of Britain, France, and Panama. Both have perceived some of its possible implications in view of recent developments at the UN, and it has taken only the slightest and most elusive of feminine communications to produce a unanimous and hearty invitation to join the luncheon party. This has been promptly accepted by Kitty, who loves politics and gossip; by Celestine, who has approved with her gravely silent smile; and by Patsy, who interrupts her own rush of conversation long enough to cry, “My dears, we’d be simply DELIGHTED,” and then goes on talking about her own opinion that the recent and surprising marriage of that perennial prowler about town, Senator Lafe Smith of Iowa, may already be on the verge of breaking up. It has been her DISTINCT impression, Patsy informs her companions, two passing newspapermen, a Capitol cop, and a group of tourists from Nebraska, that ALL IS NOT WELL in that household. Why, do THEY know that at Dolly’s last garden party at “Vagaries,” Lafe and little Irene were seen by Justice Tommy Davis of the Supreme Court VIOLENTLY arguing behind one of the rhododendrons, and now that Lafe is up there at the United Nations, Patsy’s husband, HER husband, Felix, says it’s common talk that Lafe is— But here the Senators’ private elevator arrives and swallows them up, leaving behind two disappointed newspapermen, one grinning cop, and six puzzled but thoroughly intrigued tourists from Nebraska.
    Now in the Family Gallery, where, as Dolly murmurs to Beth, even Patsy Labaiya has to shut up, they have dutifully stood for Carney Birch’s prayer and then settled down to watch the Senate for a little while before going back down for their 12:30 luncheon reservation in the Senators’ Dining Room. Beth says she can’t stay away from the Senate even though Orrin is at State, now—“it’s always been home to us, and I guess it will