The Negro (he talks slowly and very quietly): It is all right.
Susan: And who in the name of night might you be?
The Negro: Mista William Custis. Mista Lincoln tell me to come here. Nobody stop me, so I come to look for him.
Susan: Are you Mr. William Custis?
Custis: Yes.
Susan: Mr. Lincoln will be here directly. He's gone to change his coat. You'd better sit down.
Custis: Yes.
He does so, looking about him with a certain pathetic inquisitiveness. Mista Lincoln live here. You his servant? A very fine thing for young girl to be servant to Mista Lincoln.
Susan: Well, we get on very well together.
Custis: A very bad thing to be slave in South.