"I think Molly has got something to say to you, Bob. You can go, Molly," she added, smiling.
The two walked toward the cabin, the negroes crowding about Bob and shaking him by the hand and asking a thousand absurd questions; and Bob, while he was affable, was lordly as well, and one or two of Bob's possible rivals were seen to sniff, as did other young field hands, though Bob's mammy was, for the first time in her life, grinning openly with pride in her "chile," and she waved the curious away and took the two in her own cabin, reappearing presently and walking toward the kitchen.
Bob and Molly sat down on opposite sides of the fireplace, Bob triumphant at last, and Molly watching him furtively.
"I believe you has somethin' to say to me, Miss Johnson," said Bob, loftily.
"Well, I sut'nly is glad to welcome you home ag'in, Mistuh Crittenden," said Molly.
"Is you?"
Bob was quite independent now, and Molly began to weaken slightly.
"An' is dat all you got to say?"
"Ole Miss said I must tell you that I was mighty—mean—to—you—when you went—to—de wah, an' that—I'm sorry."
"Well, is you sorry?"