Yo’ keep ’way from me, Slim Dorsey!
SLIM (with a savage shout)
Gimme a dollah—!
LUCY BELLE (stopping abruptly and standing her ground squarely)
Die fo’ I give yo’ ’noder cent! (He leans forward as though to lunge at her. She steps back a pace.) Don’ yo’ dare lay a han’ on me! Don’ yo’ dare! I’se gwine ter yell “Po-lice!” an’ “Murder!” ef yo’ tech me—!
(Old man Pocher is heard coming heavily down the stairs, Right. Both Slim and Lucy Belle turn and listen.)
LUCY BELLE
Sen’ ole man Pocher out fo’ he’p.
(Slim hesitates for a moment or two, then turns and slinks to the door, Back.)
SLIM (turning at the door)