Flournoy studied a moment, twisting a pair of steel handcuffs in his giant hands. Finally he spoke:
"Plaster, I have a cabin down on the Coolie Bayou which I have given to three young married couples in succession on the condition that they live there in peace and amity one year."
"Yes, suh."
"Every couple broke up and got a divorce within nine months."
"Too bad, Marse John, dat's mighty po' luck."
"You niggers think you love each other until you get hitched and then you don't stay hitched."
"Some shorely don't—dey don't fer a fack."
"Now I make you and Pearline Flunder this offer. I will buy your marriage license, pay Vinegar Atts to marry you, bear all the expense of a church wedding, give you a job so you can support your wife, and I will make you a present of that cabin down on the Coolie Bayou if you and your wife will live together for three days without busting up in a row."
"Three days, Marse John!" the negro howled. "Boss, I motions to make it thurty years!"