Adjusting his monocle and top hat, undercover student-journalist Trevor Freet breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that he blended in perfectly with the high-class guests at the Granoff Dinner. “I told the man at the door ‘Tally-ho, gent!’ and he let me right in,” said Freet, waving away a cloud of cigar smoke as he spoke quietly into a hidden recorder. “I was worried they’d figure me out when I was the only one here who didn’t ride in on a purebred stallion, but they didn’t catch on. My cummerbund, gilded cufflinks, and burlap sacks full of money must have convinced them.” At press time, Freet was swept up in an extravagant ballroom dance that Marty Granoff was leading.

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