tramping club

Julianne Moore and John Lithgow dance in a half empty club to weird ringtone muzak.

It was Wednesday night; over forty men sat down to the house-dinner at the Pandemonium Club.

In most club card-rooms smoking is not permitted, but at the Pandemonium it is the fashion to smoke everywhere.

But he forgot the stagnant town, the bald-headed man at the club window, the organ and "The Manola."

He kisses the top of her head lightly and goes round to the club fender, where he sits with his back to the fireplace.

He won't let her belong to a club—clubs are all very well for other women, but his wife is not as other women.