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COPYRIGHT 2006 All rights reserved. Reproduced by permission of The Condé Nast Publications Inc.
Maybe you're too young to remember, but in 1942 a man named Lou Walters opened a night club called the Latin Quarter, on the corner of Broadway and Forty-eighth Street, the kind of place that no longer exists, except, in a way that doesn't quite count, in Las Vegas. Showgirls, acrobats, colored fountains, the works--"a dream," as Walters once put it, "of nights that are carefree and full of beauty." Dapper, slim, London-born, he was a man of mottoes ("Fill them full of food and take their breath away") and edicts ("Never get a suntan that leaves lines"), but his greatest talent may have been his eye for, and guardianship of, what a...
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