“I also will not be caught in public with Zarita again. Some womens is all right in private. In fact, fine. But in public they act like they are out of their minds. A crowd excites some folks and the show-off in them comes out, so they have to not only show-off but show-out. Zarita were the life of that ball. To tell the truth, she attracted attention.”

“Do you mean to say she did not behave like a lady?”

“Less like a lady than usual,” said Simple. “More like as if she was being paid to put on a show. She bawled and she brawled. She clowned. And she sounded out when I said, ‘Baby, set down!’ She got high and wanted to fly. Danced every set. Jived every man she met. That chick didn’t miss a bet. Frantic! And me paying for her tickets. Keeping up with her nearly give me the rickets, man. Trying to get her home almost broke me. And if I was to tell you the rest, friend, well, words would choke me! When the musicianers started playing she started doing the mambo, the sambo, and the hambo. She danced twenty mens down, including me.”

“You really had your hands full, fellow.”

“That I did. Then at four-five A.M., Zarita wanted to stop in every after-hour spot on the Avenue when the ball were over. I thought I knew them all, but Zarita knowed some jook joints nobody I know ever knowed. With licker at Fifty Cents a shot, for the rest of the week what have I got? A big head, and a small purse. It were broad open daylight before we started home. By that time, it were time for me to go to work. Bartenders should have their balls on Saturday so a man can rest afterwards, especially when he goes out with Zarita.”

“How could Zarita get an old night-owl like you down?”

“She did,” said Simple. “But the worst of it was that news of all this balling got back to Joyce. She lit into me like a house afire. Then ended up telling me, ‘I do not expect you to be a saint, Jess Semple, because they stopped making saints when they started putting M–R—period—Mr.—instead of S-T. in front of men’s names. But I do know one thing, if, when, and after you marry me, you had better let Zarita alone. And, just to get in practice, you better start now. Don’t let me hear tell of you running around with that woman again. Why, you liable to catch the seven-year itches. And from me you’ll catch the kind of chastisement you read about only in the Bible. In fact, worse, because chastisements are up my sleeve you have never even read about. Mark my words.’

“‘They is marked,’ I said. I could tell Joyce were not fooling. What is a chastisement, anyhow?”

“A castigation, a punishment.”