Someone had invited the mayor. Magruder began explaining to her the complex legal niceties of reopening the Lodge. He was defensive about what he’d done, in his own aggressive way. She fended him off with empty pleasantries. "Oh, wait," she said, "there’s someone I simply must meet," and she left him and walked at random toward a stranger. A black woman with a short fringed haircut, standing alone in the corner, sipping a soda-and-ricewater.