A Jazz Age rake investigates an utterly divine art-world mystery. Everyone who's anyone knows Bedford Green. Once a merciless gossip columnist, he has given up the life of sleaze and secrets and decamped for the Village to open a gritty little art gallery showcasing the most shocking European artists imaginable. The gallery is a money pit, and Green is in debt to some of the roughest loan sharks south of 14th Street, but that doesn't stop him from looking fabulous or having a good time.
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Bedford Green finds that Newport's rich and powerful work hard, play hard, and die easy. Gossip columnist, gallery owner, amateur sleuth - Bedford Green has been a lot of things, but he's never been respectable. So on a blistering hot afternoon in 1925, the impeccably dressed man-about-town is shocked to receive an invitation from the Vanderbilts requesting he spend a few days in their cottage at Newport.
It's a beautiful day in Greenwich Village, and for once Bedford Green is selling paintings. Business is booming, and this gossip columnist turned art dealer owes it all to his invaluable assistant, Sloane - who goes and spoils the fun by announcing that she's leaving on safari. Sloane is a Midwestern girl and has never laid eyes on any animal more exotic than a house cat, but she can't resist her uncle Dixon's invitation to visit Kenya to hobnob with everyone from the department-store king of Chicago to the prince of Wales.