"Well, you des ez well call 'im dead den, kaze marry her he will, an' I don't blame 'im; an' mo'n dat I'll he'p 'im all I can."
"You don't know what you are talking about," said Silas, wiping his lips, which were as dry as a bone.
"Maybe I does, an' maybe I don't," replied Rhody. "But what I does know, I knows des ez good ez anybody. You say dat boy sha'n't marry de gal; but how come you courtin' de mammy?"
"Doing what?" cried Silas, pushing his chair back from the table.
"Courtin' de mammy," answered Rhody, in a loud voice. "You wuz dar las' night, an' fer all I know you wuz dar de night befo', an' de night 'fo' dat. You may fool some folks, but you can't fool me."
"Courting! Why you blasted idiot! I went to see her on business."
Rhody laughed so heartily that few would have detected the mockery in it. "Business! Yasser; it's business, an' mighty funny business. Well, ef you kin git her, you take her. Ef she don't lead you a dance, I ain't name Rhody."
"I believe you've lost what little sense you used to have," said Silas with angry contempt.
"I notice dat nobody roun' here ain't foun' it," remarked Rhody, retiring to the kitchen with a waiter full of dishes.