We went through the doors, crossed the lobby and got in the elevator. The elevator operator was a young, well-groomed Negro, who tipped his hat and said, "Evenin', Miss Cross."
She smiled at him and said, "Hello, Rodney."
We rode to her floor in silence.
Once we got to her apartment she unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in first. She flipped on the light.
It was a nice, well furnished apartment. She was living quite a good life for someone that was a standby singer in a mediocre nightclub.
What else was going on here?