Ida had resumed her station at the door. As she watched, a steady stream of men went up the stairs to the second floor to the flat opposite the one Johnson was in. It was occupied by a high-yellow, heavy-built and answering to the name of Fat Tess. Ida called Liza’s attention to the parade of men.

Liza laughed.

“Business is good. See her out in a few days flashin’ some fancy clo’es. She seems mighty popular. Ah see dem come often. Yo’d think dey was callin’ on duh President. Just comin’ in t’ shake hands ’n’ go out agin.”

Money Johnson, too, had heard the footsteps of the callers at Fat Tess’s flat and knew what was going on.

“Poor low niggers,” he thought, “wit one black woman. Ah’s duh king. Got duh beautiful white woman all to mahself, when Ah wants, an’ all Ah wants.”

His mind flashed back to the days when he had five and six hustlers like Tess working for him. Johnson felt like grabbin’ a smoke, so he called up Pinhead Pete to come over. Pinhead was one of the best “chefs” in Harlem.

Pinhead arrived and cooked the little pills of gumopium for Johnson and Babe, and the afternoon hours wore on. Pinhead burned a heavy incense to smother the fumes of the drug. Ida had seen Pete go in, and now when the odor of incense was wafted down to her she knew that he was “cheffing” for Money Johnson, as he had done many times before.

“Dey’re layin’ duh hip,” she said to herself. “Dey’ll be good fo’ five or six hours anyway. Guess Ah’ll git me some sleep on Liza’s bed.” As she turned away she heard a rumpus on the front stoop, and went to the window.

From the window of the top floor flat next to Ida’s, where a Chinese laundryman lived with his black wife, a thin stream of water fell upon the Madame Walker kink-free marcel of a colored housewife, who stood on the stoop. She started shouting imprecations as the water hit her head.

“Hey, you up dere, what ail you anyway?”

A huge black bust protruded from the upper window.

“Whut y’all shoutin’ about? Guess Ah kin water mah jewraniums ef Ah wants to widout no permit from yo’.”

“Yo’ don’ understand me right ’bout lettin’ dat flood drop over me. Ah’s comin’ up dere an’ operate on yo’ ear!”