“Yuh nebber lie tuh me, Bess.”
“No,” came an even, colorless voice, “I nebber lie tuh yuh. Yuh gots tuh gib me dat.”
Another interval, then:
A sharp, indrawn breath beside him, and a whisper:
“How yuh know?”
“Gawd gib cripple many t’ings he ain’t gib strong men.” Then again, patiently, “War it Crown?”
“Yes, it war.”
“Wut he say?”
“He comin’ fuh me when de cotton come tuh town.”