She uttered a cry, dropped the pillow, and stared up at him. Her face looked dry and wrinkled.
"My God! De chol'ra's in town! I'm waitin' on you! Dress, en come down en fetch de bun'le by de dooh." And she hurried back into the house.
But he continued leaning on his folded arms, his brain stunned by the shock of the intelligence. Suddenly he leaned far out and looked down at the closed shutters of the barber-shop. Old Charlotte reappeared.
"Where is Harry Sikes?" he asked.
"Dead en buried."
"When did he die?"
"Yestidd'y evenin'."
"What day is this?"
"Sadd'y."
M. Xaupi's ball had been on Thursday evening. That night the cholera had broken out. He had lain in his drunken stupor ever since. Their talk had lasted but a minute, but she looked up anxiously and urged him.