The negro in charge of the lunch-table advanced toward her.
"What you want heah, ma'am?" he asked.
"I am looking for a gentleman," she replied, in a nervous tone.
"Plenty ob gen'elmen come and go all night. It's as hard as de debble to find any one in dese ar rooms."
"He is my husband. Perhaps you know him. His name is Clarence Holt," continued the lady.
"Oh! yes, for suah. I know him."
"Then I implore you to tell me if he is here. Where is the room in which they play?"
"No place for ladies, dat; besides, Marse Holt him been gone an hour or more with Marse Markham."
"Is he with that bad man? Ah, me! what future have I and my child now?"
She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed, while the negro held the door open.