Robespierre O'Reilly, who was nothing more than a short-order cook who'd made it big. Mr. O'Reilly's considerable fortune came from his chain of fast-food restaurants, which were known as Mother O'Reilly's Irish Stew Parlors.*

About the only kind thing Mrs. C. Edward Sattyn-Whiley could find to say about Mr. J. Robespierre O'Reilly was that he did have enough common decency, as she thought of it, to secretly donate to the Opera Guild an amount of money equal to that which the opera paid his wife.

Mr. O'Reilly was in Madame Kristina Korsky-Rimsakov's dressing room when Mrs. C. Edward Sattyn-Whiley, trailed by her husband and son, swept in.

'Good evening, Mr. O'Reilly,' Mrs. Sattyn-Whiley said. 'Do you suppose that the grand duchess might possibly be gracious enough to grant me a moment of her time?'

'Who?' Mr. O'Reilly replied. 'Oh, you mean Kris!’ He turned his head slightly and called out, 'Hey, pumpkin, you decent?' He turned to Colonel Whiley. 'Hiya, Colonel,' he said.

'Hello, Mr. O'Reilly,' the colonel replied. His wife glowered at him.

Kristina Korsky-Rimsakov, already dressed for her role as Cio Cio San, came into the room.

 

*Those readers with a burning curiosity to know how a former corporal of the Medical Service Corps rose from dishwashing to command an empire of 2,108 stew parlors, worldwide, and to win the hand of Madame Korsky-Rimsakov, will find all the sordid details related in M*A*S*H Goes to Las Vegas (Sphere Books).

 

"This your boy, Colonel?' Mr. O'Reilly asked. 'Looks a lot like his mother. Well-stuffed, if you know what I mean.'

'Robespierre!' Madame Korsky-Rimsakov said.

'Gee, pumpkin,' Mr. O'Reilly said, getting his first look at her. 'You look great! If I didn't know better, I'd say you were really one of those geisha girls.'

'Thank you, dear,' Madame Korsky-Rimsakov said.

'Gee, I just thought of something,' Mr. O'Reilly said. 'This opera you're going to sing isn't a dirty opera, is it?'

'Of course not, dear,' Madame Korsky-Rimsakov said.

'Whatever possessed you to ask such a thing ?' Mrs. Sattyn-Whiley demanded to know, her intention to ignore Mr. O'Reilly overcome by his violation of all that she held sacred.

'You wouldn't believe the things I could tell you about geisha girls,' Mr. O'Reilly said. 'And I bet you could, too, huh, Colonel ? You went on R&R to Japan, too, didn't you ? Boy!'

'I am sure, Mr. O'Reilly,' Mrs.