"The check," he said.

"Sharp's the word, please." The Crystal Room was not content with one band.

Even musicians must sometimes pause for breath, and anything like a break in the jangle and noise might bring depression to the diners who had crowded in to dance.
As soon, therefore, as the left band was exhausted, the one on the right sprang in with renewed and feverish energy.

Whatever melody there might have been in the incessant ragtime and fox trots was lost beneath the bang and clang of drum and cymbals, to which had been added other more ingenious ear tortures in the shape of rattles and whistles.
Broken-collared men and faded women struggled for elbow room like a mass of flies caught on sticky paper.

There was something both heathenish and pathetic in the whole thing.