Kain’t stay ’way from de chillen all de time. (Sighs and drops down in a chair. Draws a hand across her forehead.) Gawd—!
SLIM
W’at’s de mattah?
LUCY BELLE
I’se tired. Wash dis mawnin’. Got ter go back dis aftahnoon an’ iron.
SLIM
Wuk yo’ ter deaf.
LUCY BELLE
Be twict as hard ef I’se wukkin’ ev’y day. (With a little wistful cry.) Ef—ef Sam was only yere—den—den I would’n’ care how hard I haf ter wuk—or ’bout nuffin’—(Staring abstractedly into space.) Be a yeah de fust-a nex’ monf since he wen’ ter jail.
SLIM