"Yas, I min's dat sho!" said Eve with evident satisfaction.
"Doan you wish you nebber done dat?"
"You black debbil!"
"Dat's hit! I'se er bad nigger, M'am,—bad nigger fo' de war. En I'se gittin' wuss en wuss," Nelse chuckled.
She looked at him with gathering rage and contempt.
"En den fudder mo, M'am, I doan lak de way you talk ter me sometimes. Yo voice des kinder takes de skin off same's er file. I laks ter hear er 'oman's voice lak my Missy's, des es sof' es wool. Sometime one word from her keep me warm all winter. De way you talk sometime make me cole in de summer time."
Nelse rose while Eve sat motionless.
"I des call, M'am, ter drap er little intent inter dem years er yourn, dat'll percerlate froo you min', en when I calls ergin I hopes ter be welcome wid smiles."
Nelse bowed himself out the door in grandiloquent style.
All the afternoon he was laughing to himself over his triumph, and imagining the welcome when he returned that evening with his marriage license and the officer to perform the ceremony. At supper in the kitchen he was polite and formal in his manners to Eve. She eyed him in a contemptuous sort of way and never spoke unless it was absolutely necessary.
It was about half past eight when Nelse arrived at home with the license duly issued and the officer of the Bureau ready to perform the ceremony.
"Des wait er minute here at de corner, sah, twell I kinder breaks de news to 'em," said Nelse to the officer. He approached the cabin door and knocked.
It was shut and fastened. He got no response.
He knocked loudly again.
