A man paused before the entrance of the court, and looked in. To the two women he was only a silhouette standing under the arch against a dazzling expanse of bay; but the foppish outlines of the indolent, slender figure were unmistakable.
A smile of pleased anticipation grew about Maria’s wide mouth. She dried her hands upon her apron.
“Jus’ like I been tellin’ yuh!” she remarked to Serena. “T’ank Gawd, Jedus ain’t gots me yit wuh he gots you; an’ I still mens enough tuh straighten out a crooked nigger. See dat yalluh snake wrigglin’ in de do’way? He de one wut sell Bess dat happy-dus’.”
Drying her hands and bared forearms with ominous thoroughness, she crossed to her shop. The room was empty when she entered. She went at once to the stove which stood in its corner, with its legs set upon four bricks. She bent forward, placed a shoulder against one of its corners, gave a heave, and drew out a brick. Then she straightened up, spat first on one hand, then on the other, and, carrying the brick in her immense right, lightly, and with a certain awful fondness, stepped out of her door.
Sportin’ Life was now within the entrance, and presented an unsuspecting profile to the cook-shop.
With frightful deliberation, Maria swung her long arm back; then, like the stroke of a rattler, it shot forward. The brick caught the mulatto full on the side of the head. He crumpled among his gaudy habiliments like a stricken bird.
After a space of time the victim blinked feebly, then opened his eyes upon Maria’s face. She was mopping his head with a wet rag, and his first glance discovered an expression of gentleness on her heavy features. Reassured, he opened his eyes wide. But the gentleness was gone. He felt himself gripped by the shoulders, and suddenly snatched upward to be placed upon unsteady legs. Then he was propelled rapidly toward the gate.
At the pavement’s edge Maria swung her victim around until his wandering and reluctant gaze met hers.
“De las’ time yuh wuz aroun’ hyuh, I ain’t hab nuttin’ on yuh but my eyes. Now I knows yuh—yuh damn, dirty, dope-peddler, wreckin’ de homes ob dese happy niggers!”
Her arms shot forward and back like locomotive pistons. The man’s head snapped to an acute angle, and righted itself with difficulty.