Florette flushed up to the slightly darker roots of her too-blonde hair.
"You?" she gasped furiously. "After all I've put up with!"
"Say, you ain't got any kick comin'! I treated you white, marryin' you, an' no questions asked."
"What-ta you mean?" breathed Florette, growing deathly pale.
Freddy, alarmed, half rose from his chair.
"Sit down there you!" roared Howard. "What-ta I mean, Miss Innocence?" he said, mimicking Florette's tone. "Oh, no, of course you ain't no idea of what I mean!"
"Come on, Freddy," Florette broke in quickly. "It's a katzenjammer. He ain't got over last night yet."
She seized Freddy's hand and walked rapidly toward the door. Howard lurched after her, followed by the interested stares of the spectators. On the street he caught up with her and the quarrel recommenced.
The act went badly that afternoon. It must be hard to frolic in midair with a heavy heart. Under cover of the gay music there were angry muttered words and reproaches.
"Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!" Florette would trill happily to the audience as she poised on one toe. "What-ta you tryin' to do—shake me off'n the bar?" she would mutter under her breath to her partner.