section7mfu | The Breach Of Promise Affair

The narrow Georgian townhouse was for generations the London residence of the Cubbitt family, before two world wars rendered their line extinct. In honor of the building’s history, a portrait of the notorious Sir Charles Cubbitt, resplendent in powdered wig and scarlet satin, hung in the front hall of the Jacobite Club, which a Pathé newsreel had recently named ‘the current temple of the In.’ Sir Charles greeted the colorfully-arrayed guests much as he had done two centuries earlier, his raffish air exuding sympathetic vibes over the young mods, particularly toward the scantily-clad girls. The less sympathetic Victorian Cubbitts had been hung in the Ladies and Gents.

At her companion’s inquiring glance, Faustina Pemberley shook her head and gestured to the sign marked Casino. The arrow pointed up a deeply-carpeted staircase. She ascended, Donald Marsden close behind, his hand still rattling the pocket change remaining from what he had announced to be an ‘exorbitant’ entrance fee. “I should try to reach Louise,” he said. “I don’t understand why I haven’t been able to get through.”

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