"You gotta eat them words, Mis' Jackson," she said with ominous calm.
Mrs. Jackson retreated until the marble-topped centre table formed a protecting barrier.
"Don't you start no rough-house here, Mis' Tutts."
Mrs. Tutts continued to advance and her lips had contracted as though an invisible gathering string had been jerked violently.
"You gotta eat them words, Mis' Jackson." Unwavering purpose was in her voice.
"I'll have the law on you if you begin a ruckus here." Mrs. Jackson moved to the opposite side of the table.
"The law's nothin' to me." Mrs. Tutts went around the table.
"I haven't forgot I'm a lady!" Mrs. Jackson quickened her gait.
"Everybody else has." Mrs. Tutts also accelerated her pace.
"Don't you dast lay hands on me!" Mrs. Jackson broke into a trot.