She took his breath away. He could see in her eyes that she was cold and disgusted with him. Then what Willis had told him about the handsome white man was true. “She’s got somebody new! She’s tired o’ me!” He knew that look in her face, for he knew how he had looked at his women when he was tired of them. He had been cruel and rotten to them and now he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

Babe saw him staring at her in the mirror. She turned around in a flash.

“What the hell are you lookin’ at? Go get me that towel!”

He wasn’t used to these tones from her or anyone else. Money Johnson had never been a servant. Yet unconsciously he walked over, picked up a towel and handed it to her.

She snatched it roughly from his hand and started wiping her face with it. Then with some highly perfumed powder and lip-stick, she restored the perfection of her appearance, and turned from the mirror with an expression changed from crossness to one of self-approval.

“Where’s my hat?” she demanded.

It had fallen to the floor when he had first seized her.

His heart sank as he saw that she was preparing to go.

“What are yo’ doin’ to me? What are yo’ treatin’ me like this fo’?”

“What do you mean?” Babe said, coldly.

“Wantin’ to go an’ leavin’ me like this.” His eyes had the look of a hurt animal.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to get downtown; I’ve got something important to attend to. I really shouldn’t have come up here today. But I was anxious to see you. I thought I’d come here and stay a little while and go. I can come back again tomorrow. Then maybe I can stay here with you.”

“What yo’ got to do dat’s mo’ important dan me?” He knew she was lying—just trying to get away.

As she stood looking at him, she couldn’t think of any reason she could tell him for wanting to go.

As he sat down on the arm of a chair, his flashy robe, which was not buttoned but tied at the waist with a silk cord, fell open.

Babe hesitated a moment; her eyes traveled over his symmetrical body. Finally her eyes met his. They were both thinking. Babe thought: “Oh, what the hell. A couple of hours won’t hurt.” She picked up a cigarette and Johnson quickly lit a match and held it for her.

“Get me a drink!” she commanded.

He poured her a whiskey straight, and she drank it down. He also had one.

Then he went over to her.

“Ah knows yo’ wouldn’t leave me. Ah knows yo’ couldn’t leave me, when yo’ know how much Ah wantcha.”