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Show -90 the Chrysler fell to its knees; it leaned dangerously when I turned the corner into Maybelle's street. "You ought to see them," I said. "I'm sure they're good folks." "Hyenas." "Don't get in one of your moods now, for heaven's sake." She leaned over to check my tie. "They're probably nice people. You're too superior, Buck." "Hyenas. They're primitive. What's worse, they're born losers and all that lust for power and money is wasted on them. It's a curious sight to see them all snapping at their own tails, but it's depressing. Especially the women- they're completely ruthless but they don't have enough brains to take advantage of their condition. Some nights I look at us all sitting at those little desks and it makes me want to cry. " "Shh!" Mary-Ellen said. "Here we are. Stop it now or you'll ruin the party." Maybelle moved in high social circles; several of her guests carried the names of department stores, land companies and modest mining enterprises. A few more had Spanish names made magically respectable by having been rich here before the Anglos arrived. Little Mexican maids in frilly white blouses and short black skirts moved deferentially among these men of consequence and their wives. One stopped |