'I suppose she thinks that's what it's for,' I said absently, glancing at my watch. I patted Alice on her thigh. 'We're going to have to go, baby.'

'I think our people who're making money at this time should save it,' Mrs. Harrison said. 'That's all many of us are going to get out of it.'

'Some of us are going to get killed out of it,' I said.

Alice gave me a sharp look. 'You haven't been called, have you, Bob?' she asked.

'No, of course not,' I said too fast, then slowed up some. 'I don't think I'll be called.' I tapped the cocktail table. 'I'm knocking on wood anyway.'

'You won't be called,' Mrs. Harrison said. 'You're what they call a key man.'

'They better not calf him,' Alice said, brushing her fingers lightly down the back of my neck. 'Where are we going, darling?' she asked, standing up.

I grinned at her. 'It's still a secret.'

She made a face at me and ran upstairs after her wrap. Mrs. Harrison looked curious but didn't say anything. Alice returned with a black velvet cape and I held it for her, pressing her shoulders. Mrs. Harrison followed us to the door.

'You both look so nice, it's a pity you're not going to some inter-racial affair,' she said. 'I think now is the time we should make more social contacts with white people.'

'Oh, Mother, I don't want to always be running after white people whenever I go out anywhere,' Alice protested. 'I want to go slumming down on Central Avenue.'

'You sound just like the other white people,' I said to Alice.

Mrs. Harrison followed us out on the porch. 'You shouldn't feel that way about it,' she said to Alice. 'You should take pains to show them that you're not seeking their company, but you should seek more social association with them, I'm sure.'

'I'd really like to see how that's done,' I mumbled under my breath. Alice pinched me.