I git yo’ fo’ dis!
LUCY BELLE (defiantly)
Git me!
(She turns and stands listening as Pocher descends the stairs. At length the door, Right, opens and the old man enters carrying a very old black leather portmanteau—so old and battered and scarred that it looks as though it were about to fall to pieces. There is fiery resolve in Pocher’s eyes. He gives Lucy Belle a sharp glance and makes directly for the door, Back.)
LUCY BELLE (hesitatingly)
H’yo’, Mistah Pocher—!
POCHER (halting and glaring at her)
W’at—?
LUCY BELLE