most as hard to express. He fumbled for words, suffered terror, helplessness, humiliation, and fury before crawling back in his shell, defeated. Hard words and silences came more easily.
"Want to go to a chop suey place?" Dot asked him. "I know a dandy one. You can dance there, too."
"Where is it?"
"Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street near Seventh."
Eddie knew the place. He signified approval by nodding.
"Thursday night be all right?"
Again Eddie nodded.
"Well, then that's settled," Dot said briskly. She moved up another step and delayed going farther. Her hands drifted lingeringly over the balustrade, and one foot made strange little jerky motions expressive of indecision.
"I got to go up now," she said.
"Thursday then," Eddie reminded her.
"Yes, Thursday. I'll meet you in front of the place at eight o'clock. I won't eat no dinner. Gee, I love chow mein, don't you?"
Eddie said it was good stuff.
Dot sat down on the fourth step. "I should go upstairs," she said. "I'll get Hail Columbia if my brother's in."
"He your boss?"
"Sure, but he ain't strict. He don't care much what I do, but once in a while if something goes wrong down at work, he's funny. You know how it is."
Eddie appeared to know how it was. Out of deference to the funniness of Dot's brother, he waited in silence for her to speak again.
Somewhere aloft a door banged open with a loud,
