"Would you care to dance?" he asked, after a moment's hesitation.
She looked up at him haughtily with cool green eyes, somewhat astonished at his insolence and yet perhaps secretly intrigued, but her reply lacked nothing in definiteness.
"No," she said icily, "I never dance with niggers!" Then turning to her friend, she remarked: "Can you beat the nerve of these darkies?" She made a little disdainful grimace with her mouth, shrugged daintily and dismissed the unpleasant incident.
Crushed and angry, Max returned to his place without a word. Bunny laughed aloud in high glee.
"You said she was a cracker," he gurgled, "an' now I guess you know it."
"Aw, go to hell," Max grumbled.
Just then Billy Fletcher, the headwaiter passed by. Max stopped him. "Ever see that dame in here before?" he asked.
"Been in here most every night since before Christmas," Billy replied.
"Do you know who she is?"
"Well, I heard she was some rich broad from Atlanta up here for the holidays. Why?"