They ate leisurely.
“There’s going to be racing out at the park this evening,” said Harry. “Want to go?”
‚ÄúI was going to hear an art lecture at the Club,‚Äù Mary returned, and grew thoughtful; for here walked her ghost again. Of course, the Club was an affair with more of gossip than of intellectual effort, but today, largely through her own suggestion, an art teacher of European reputation was going to lecture, and Mary preferred it to the company of the race track. And‚ÅÝ‚Äîjust as certainly‚ÅÝ‚Äîher husband didn‚Äôt.
“Don’t forget the man, dear,” she reminded him; but he was buried in his paper, frowning.
‚ÄúLook at that,‚Äù he said finally. She glanced at the headlines‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚ÄúProminent Negro Politician Candidate for High Office at Hands of New Administration. B. ¬ÝAlwyn of Alabama.‚Äù
“Why, it’s Bles!” she said, her face lighting as his darkened.
“An impudent Negro,” he voiced his disgust. “If they must appoint darkies why can’t they get tractable ones like my nigger Stillings.”
“Stillings?” she repeated. “Why, he’s the man that’s waiting.”
‚ÄúSam, is it? Used to be one of our servants‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou remember? Wants to borrow more money, I presume.‚Äù He went downstairs, after first helping himself to a glass of whiskey, and then gallantly kissing his