The Conrad Letters

When English cad Conrad Wilkinson leaves friends, family, and fiance for a jaunt in New York City, the world sees only a playboy jumping the pond. But when the festering secrets of a sleepy English village and the glittering knife-edge of a major metropolis collide, more than one man's life may hang in the balance...

Wednesday

9/27/11 (Conrad to Elle)

Elle,

doll, how are you? Kisses to all from me and others at my party. It was wonderful of you to wish me birthday tidings, and I read your letter with pleasure. Wish you had sent me a present like you promised last time I saw you. Guess I left before telling you exactly when it was but you found out on your own didn't you?

Greetings to your father and all.

By the way, ran into cousin Ned last night before the theater. He has a new girl and wants you to meet her, though God knows if you'll ever make it to New York, or even London, any time soon. He asks if you've read the Gazette recently, said you had them mailed sometimes, any case, I'm enclosing the article he wanted you to read. Hope it is of interest.

Best of All,
Conrad

P.S. Next time you see Alice Mae snitching some licorice make her pay for it and tell her that I'll bring her some New York Mints if I find any she'll like.

Text of the Enclosed Article, from the New York Gazette, September 25, 1911, About Town column:

GUESTS at MISS ANNE NEWBERGER's Autumn Gala last Thursday in her elegant Upper East Side mansion were "appalled" at the behavior of LAURA DAWSON, the celebrated actress recently returned from a successful run of the "The Dancer" in Edinburgh and London.

Miss Dawson wore a stunning green dress of the most modern cut, trimmed with lace acquired on a a recent trip to Brussels.

Upon arriving at the soiree she gave a perfunctory greeting to the hostess, charming in blue silk, and proceeded directly to the bar, where, according to several invitees, Miss Dawson spent much of the evening in the company of champagne, vermouth, and absinthe.

She concluded the evening, by all report, by insisted that the elegant, 18th Century, French carved wood banister rail was an anaconda bent on devouring the assembly. The actress had to be forcibly calmed by BENJAMEN WALDORF, heir to the Waldorf fortune, and FREDDY JONES, the acclaimed popular musician.

One must wonder if such profligate behavior will affect the continued popularity of the actress's work, but one thing is for certain: This is not a girl to take home to tea.