" ... speakin' to you. Big boy lik' yo' suckin' yo' fingers...."
Zip! Onion-colored slip of skin fluttered to the floor. Rattah Grinah, the half-dead dog, cold dribbling from his glassy blue eyes on to his freckled nose, moved inanimately towards it. Fox terrier ... shaggy ... bony ... scarcely able to walk.
"Where is dat Beryl?" Coggins asked, sitting on the floor with one leg over the other, and pouring the salt water over the crimsoning wadding.
"Outside, sah."
"Beryl!"
"Wha' yo' dey?"
"Wha' yo' doin' outside?"
"Answer me, girl!"
" ... Hey, yo' miss, answer yo' pappy!"