So Nita had listened! She had been eavesdropping when Mrs. Bybee had told Sally the shameful things she had learned from Gramma Bangs about Sally's birth.
"You can't call me that!" Sally gasped, rage flaming over her, transforming her suddenly from a timid, brow-beaten child of charity into a wildcat.
Before Nita, the Hula dancer, could lift a hand to defend herself, a small purple-and-green clad fury flung itself upon her breast; gilded nails on brown-painted fingers flashed out, were about to rip down those painted, sallow cheeks like the claws of the wildcat she had become when powerful hands seized her by the shoulders and dragged her back.
"What t'ell's going on here?" Gus, the barker, panted as Sally struggled furiously, still insane with rage at the insult Nita had flung at her.
"Better keep this she-devil out of my sight, Gus, or I'll cut her heart out!" Nita panted, adjusting the grass skirt, which Sally's furious onslaught had torn from the dancer's hips, exposing the narrow red satin tights which ended far above her thin, unlovely knees.
"I'm surprised at you, Sally," Gus said severely, but his small eyes twinkled at her. "Next time you're having a friendly argument with this grass-skirt artist, for Gawd's sake settle it by pulling her hair. The show's gotta go on and some of these rubes like her map. Don't ask me why. I ain't good at puzzles."
Sally smiled feebly, the passing of her rage having left her feeling rather sick and foolish. Gus's arm was still about her shoulders, in a paternal sort of fondness, as Nita switched away, her grass skirt hissing angrily.
"Kinda foolish of you, Sally, to pick a fight with that dame. She could-a ruint this pretty face of yours. She's a bad mama, honey, and you'd better make yourself scarce when she's around. And say, kid--take a tip from old Gus: no sheik ain't worth fightin' for. I been fought over myself considerable in my time, and believe me, while two frails was fightin' for me I was lookin' for another one."
Sally felt shriveled with shame. "I wasn't fighting her because of--of David," she muttered, digging the toe of one little red sandal into the dusty grass of the show lot. "Nita called me a--a nasty name. You'd have fought, too!"