The woman broke off.
"Yes, Nannie;" Genevieve Evans urged.
"I don't rightly know how to tell it to you, Miss. It's hard to find the words to say it in. He'd kill me if he knew I come here and told you. But you got to know. I can't keep it to myself. He's been fierce of late. What with making so much more money. And the drinking, Miss. And the women. The women, they're there all hours, now."
"My mother's house!" Genevieve Evans said it uncertainly.
"Yes, Miss," the woman went on. "And it was almost as bad when she lived."
"I know, Nannie. I've always known!"
"But last night, Miss; after they'd gone. I was asleep, Miss Genevieve. It woke me. It was awful. Plain horrid, Miss."
"What—Nannie?"
"The scream, Miss—A shriek of pain."
"No,—no, Nannie!" Genevieve Evans interrupted wildly. "Don't say it! Don't!"