"Now, I'se gwine ter make you er speech, you ha'f-white nigger. You thinks bekase yo' face ain't whut you calls raal black, an' bekase yo' haih ain't smack-dab ter yo' haid, an' bekase—— Oh, Tesney, honey chile, don't cry dat way. Aunt Agnes wus jes' er foolin'. I takes it all back. Let me kiss you all ober de face. Dere now. I knows dat you's in good humor. You sees, chile, how Aunt Agnes kin hurt yo' feelin's. You better be George's wife den hab yo' feelin's hurt all de time."
"It cannot be, Aunt Agnes. Don't ask me any more."
"Now, I'll say de res' ob my speech. It'll not be er speech ob wuds, nuther. It'll be one ob acts. It'll hit you hard. It'll make you 'shamed ob yo-self. It'll dribe yo' friends ter turn dey backs erpon you. It'll put you out ob doors. It'll make you say: 'I'se er fool—er fool.' It'll hit you hard—hard."
Agnes stopped to breathe. Mrs. Wakely entered the kitchen. Tesney was looking at the ring.
"Tesney," said Agnes, "yo' mother wus er ooman nearly white, an' yo' father wus er nigger man."
"My father!" gasped Tesney. "I have always learned that my father was——"
"Yo' father wus whut I tells you, chile."
"What have you always told me?"
"Listen! I tells you de facts. I tells you de facts."