When the
'bus lurched past them the woman who had screamed the oath after
Blanche LeHaye laughed shrilly and made a face, like a naughty child,
whereupon the others laughed in falsetto chorus.
A touch of real color showed in Blanche LeHaye's flabby cheek. "I'll
show'm she snarled. That hussy of a Zella Dacre thinkin' she can get
my part away from me the last week or so, the lyin' sneak. I'll show'm
a leadin' lady's a leadin' lady. Let 'em go to their hash hotels. I'm
goin' to the real inn in this town just to let 'em know that I got my
dignity to keep up, and that I don't have to mix in with scum like
that. You see that there? She pointed at something in the street. Emma
McChesney turned to look. The cheap lithographs of the Sam Levin
Crackerjack Belles Company glared at one from the bill-boards.
"That's our paper," explained Blanche LeHaye. "That's me, in the
center of the bunch, with the pink reins in my hands, drivin' that
four-in-hand of johnnies. Hot stuff! Just let Dacre try to get it away
from me, that's all.
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