“There’s two bathrooms upstairs,” Sallie told her. “I’ll give you another dime if you’ll go over ’em real good for me.”
Jacqueline stated her position, calmly and unashamed.
“That’s not enough. The Japs get fifty cents an hour for cleaning, and I guess I’m as good as any Jap.”
“What’s Japs got to do with it?” asked Hannah. She, you’ll note, was not a Californian.
“Fifty cents an hour,” gasped Sallie. “Fifty cents! Good-night!”
Jacqueline decided that this was a time for compromise.
“Well,” she admitted, “I’m not as big as a Jap, so maybe I ought to come down on my price to you. I’ll work for twenty-five cents an hour, not a cent less, and I’m an awful good worker.”
“You won’t work for me,” said Sallie, with decision. “What do you take me for? John D. Rockerfeller?”
Jacqueline hesitated. She was torn between pride and dire need.
“I’d get both bathrooms done in an hour,” she suggested. “I’m pretty spry.”