Jurgen nodded. He could probably hold out for another month or two, but by then, he would have to close his new bank account. 

 "Well," she continued, "the Charleston is bad enough. I just won't stand for one of my friends hanging his hat in a place like that, or worse. Do you need a place to stay?" 

 He knew she was sincere, but the situation felt uncomfortably close to charity. His grandmother had always warned against even seeming to be in need of charity—let alone actually needing help. "Really, Mabel, I couldn't presume to burden you with..." 

 "Now, stop it Jurgen," she said with a shake of her head. She scooted her hips forward, cupping both hands around her bourbon carefully as if she were settling in for a serious talk.  "Business here has never been better—and I think you've had a lot to do with that. You bring a new sound, and people are paying to hear it, and drink a few, and they're eating food, too... My friend Dotty, just the other day said to me..." Mabel pressed her hand to her breast and forced her voice to a higher pitch, "Mabel, honey, I hear deyz a strange waat boy down at Calcutta—plays jazz on de fiddle." 

 Jurgen laughed at her feigned accent. 

 Mabel let her voice drop to its normal pitch.  "Are you looking for regular work?" 

 "Nothing seems to be available in my line." 

 "Listen. First thing, we have to get you out of the Charleston. Now, my brother's got an extra room—and he's already said he'll put you up, cause I've asked him—any friend of his sister is always welcome. So that leaves work." 

 "I really could not allow you to do that..." 

 "Well, hear me out, first, before you say that," she answered.  "I'm not half finished." 

 Jurgen put up a hand to acquiesce.  "I'll hear you out." 

 "My old friend Dotty," she began.  "We went to school together you understand—when we were children, anyway. Now, Dotty works for Miss Edna. And Miss Edna thinks the world of her because she's so neat and organized. Miss Edna herself is a flighty thing—she can hardly paint her own lips with both hands." 

 Jurgen laughed, then bent forward and cupped his glass the way Mabel cupped hers, rolling it between his palms. Mabel had such a way of expressing herself. 

 "Now Edna's lover-boy is a 

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