Unformatted text preview: back in the Irish Channel to St. Alphonsus? Gifford and Alicia had gone to Holy Name School; on Sundays they went to Mass at Holy Name, uptown across from Audubon Park, a world away from old St. Alphonsus. The church had been white still in those days, before they painted the nave, and the statues were exqui- sitely made of pure marble. In that church on the Avenue, Gifford had made her Communion and her Confirmation, and walked in procession her senior year, with bouquet in hand, in white ankle-length dress and high heels, a ritual worthy of a debutante. Marry at Holy Name. It seemed so natural. What was St. Alphonsus to her, the old Mayfair church? And Deirdre Mayfair would never know. She was by that time, already, hopelessly crazy. It was Grand- daddy Fielding who made the fuss. "St. Alphonsus is our church and you a tenfold Mayfair!" Tenfold Mayfair. "I hate that expression. It doesn't mean any- thing," Gifford had said often enough. "It makes me think of folded napkins." "Nonsense," Ancient Evelyn had said. "It means you are ten times from...
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