Above, the covers of the magazine in which these ads ran suggest the New Yorker's intended audience: thrill-seeking, nightclub-hopping, polo-playing young folks ‒ the exact demographic that Fred French was after.
The ads, with summaries and commentary, below.
"Getting off a desert island is easier than getting on Manhattan without a nervous breakdown or an acute case of Delaware, Lackawanna & Western. . . Let the rest of the world go mad. You can retire to airy seclusion on your own hilltop in your own Ivory Tower in Tudor City. . . built just to solve your problem."
[Commuting-themed ad ran July 2, 1927. The $875-to-$3,100 rates quoted are annual rentals, which translate as $73 to $258 per month.]
"The slow, unceasing grind of travel will eventually reduce any man to dust. It begins by taking the nap off your coat sleeves, the bloom off your mind. . . You don't have to do it. It really isn't civilized. . . Retire to airy seclusion in Tudor City and leave the gaff for somebody else to stand."
[Ad ran July 23, 1927. Its title comes from an ancient proverb: "slowly grinds the mill of the gods, but it grinds fine."]
"Live at Tudor City, at right angles to the traffic stream. . . It is in walking distance of almost anything, high, quiet and airy on Prospect Hill. . . with shops, a restaurant, a park ‒ and an atmosphere all its own."
[This theatergoing-themed ad picturing Times Square ran September 3, 1927. By then, the cheapest rental was $1,000 annually, or $83 per month.]
More about Tudor City and the New Yorker here.