Docky leaned over and spoke into Beulah’s ear.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m really sure. I really shouldn’t have told you, but since you have thrown so much my way in the past——”
“Christ!” said Daisy, fidgeting with her lavaliere. “Sophie really makes me ill. She always looks as though she’s straight from the washtub.”
“True,” said Docky, “from the shanty on the other side of the tracks. It’s a shame for her to have money, with me dodging creditors like mad! Look at her trying to be elegant, wiping her nose with her soft, raggy wrist—and dearie, her nose isn’t running from a cold. That one’s been broken down for years and years. Old saddley ass! She looks as though she had three pillows in her rear!”
“It is indecent,” agreed Beulah. “And she doesn’t have fallen arches for nothing. She’s been cruising most of her life.”
“That she has!” said Docky. “My God!” Docky leaned forward excitedly. “She’s picking up her skirts! Do you see those varicose veins on her leg? They stand out like the knots on a pinetree!”
Drewena was now urging Sophie to give the first “number” of the evening. But Sophie, partly drunk from her brief, but thrilling escapade with the cab driver, kept showing a bruise on her shoulder.
“It hit me! The person really hit me! It was all over that cage I brought for my number. Will you have Patsy bring me the cage I left with her? I’ll be in the powder room.”
When she had gone, Drewena explained to Miriam that each guest always gave a little act.
Miriam was thunderstruck.