The man had been dusting his shabby coat, stroking his mustache, smiling
with sickly gallantry. He burbled, "Shut up, Teenie. This lady is all
right. Give her a room. Number 2 is empty, and I guess Number 7 has been
made up since Bill left--if 'tain't, the sheets ain't been slept on but
one night."
"Where d' you come----"
"Now don't go shooting off a lot of questions at the lady, Teenie. I'll
show her the rooms."
The woman turned on her husband. He was perhaps twenty-five years
younger; a quarter-century less soaked in hideousness. Her yellow,
concave-sided teeth were bared at him, her mouth drew up on one side
above the gums. "Pete, if I hear one word more out of you, out you go.
Lady! Huh! Where d' you come from, young woman?"
Claire was too weak to stagger away. She leaned against the door. Her
father struggled to speak, but the woman hurled: "Wherdjuhcomfromised!"
"From New York. Is there another hotel----"
"Nah, there ain't another hotel! Oh! So you come from New York, do you?
Snobs, that's what N' Yorkers are. I'll show you some rooms. They'll be
two dollars apiece, and breakfast fifty cents extra."
The woman led them upstairs. Claire wanted to flee, but---- Oh, she
couldn't drive any farther! She couldn't!
The floor of her room was the more bare in contrast to a two-foot-square
splash of gritty ingrain carpet in front of the sway-backed bed. On the
bed was a red comforter that was filthy beyond disguise. The yellow
earthenware pitcher was cracked. The wall mirror was milky. Claire had
been spoiled. She had found two excellent hotels since Yellowstone Park.
She had forgotten how badly human beings can live. She protested: "Seems to me two dollars is a good deal to charge for this!"
"I didn't say two dollars. I said three! Three each for you and your pa.
If you don't like it you can drive on to the next town. It's only
sixteen miles!"
"Why the extra dollar--or extra two dollars?"
"Don't you see that carpet? These is our best rooms. And three
dollars---- I know you New Yorkers. I heard of a gent once, and they
charged him five dollars--five dol-lars!--for a room in New York, and a
boy grabbed his valise from him and wanted a short-bit and----"
"Oh--all--right! Can we get something to eat?"
"Now!?"
"We haven't eaten since noon."
"That ain't my fault! Some folks can go gadding around in automobuls,
and some folks has to stay at home. If you think I'm going to sit up all
night cooking for people that come chassayin' in here God knows what all
hours of the day and night----! There's an all-night lunch down the
street."
When she was alone Claire cried a good deal.