Babe had to stay away from the store occasionally to catch up on sleep. Lou and Harry were afraid she would lose her job and so objected to Money Johnson. They told her that her affair with the black man was creating jealousy among Johnson’s cast-off girl friends. They thought that one or another of these deserted and disappointed ladies might show up at the store and make no end of trouble, might in fact do some fast work with a razor. But Babe didn’t care. Her life with Money Johnson satisfied her craving for excitement, and she was entirely without fear. Then something happened that changed everything.

Money Johnson, the “policy king,” was arrested on a gambling charge. After spending a wad of money and pulling political wires, he managed to have his sentence reduced to three months.

XVIII THE FRAME-UP

IN NIGGER GERT’S apartment in Harlem, a group of excited chorus girls from the various colored night clubs were drinking “corn” and lolling on the sofa and plush chairs as they discussed in high-pitched tones the arrest and sentence of Money Johnson.

Gert, who was passing out corn liquor, was a large husky pitch black woman. She was busy between pouring and answering the door-bell.

One tall, chocolate-skinned girl with close-cropped hair, gold earrings and red lacquered lips was pacing back and forth in wild-eyed excitement, proclaiming dramatically with spasmodic frenzied gestures. She thrust her finger at Nigger Gert.

“Got jus’ what was comin’ to him, the low down dog. Ah hope he rots in jail. Ah tol’ yo’, Gert, sooner er later he’d git his. Set me up another drink.”

Gert scowled.

“Listen, Topaze, yo’ got to quit shoutin’ lak dat or Ah ain’t goin’ to serve yo’ no mo’ likker, yo’ hean me?”

Topaze started off again.

“Ah don’ care ’bout nothin’. He done me dirt an’ Ah’m glad Ah fixed him. Ah wished the jedge had a-given him thirty years, ’stead o’ measly three months.”

One of the other girls interrupted with:

“Yo’ was crazy to mess up wit’ him in the firs’ place. He never had no ’tention o’ marryin’ yo’!”

“Yes he did!”

“Ah, hush up. Yo’ jus’ full o’ dat stuff again, gal. Ah always tol’ yo’, yo’ was a fool to git mix’ up wit’ him. An’ Ah tol’ yo’ right, too, di’n’t Ah?”

“Goddam it!” Topaze turned venomously on the girl. “Yo’ don’ know a damn thing ’bout it.”

The girl’s eyes flashed back.

“How come ef Ah don’t? Wasn’t Ah in duh chorus an’ yo’ hostess at duh Savoy, when dat Money Johnson firs’ come in duh place an’ yo’ begun makin’ a fool o’ yo’self, throwin’ yo’self at him?”

Topaze raved.

“He loved me, Ah tell yo’.” A chorus of mocking contempt was flung at Topaze. Another chorus girl flung back at her: