Eve looked up at him with a sudden flash of her eye. “What de matter wid you nigger?”
“Nuttin’ tall. Des drapped in lak ter pass de time er day, en ax how’s you en yer son stallin’ dis hot wedder!” Nelse bowed and smiled.
“What ail you, you big black baboon?”
“Nuttin’ tall M’am, des callin’ roun’ ter see my frien’s.” Still smiling Nelse walked in and sat down.
Eve put down her sewing, stood up before him, her arms akimbo, and gazed at him steadily till the whites of her eyes began to shine like two moons.
“You wants me ter whale you ober de head wid dat poker?”
“Not dis evenin’, M’am.”
“Den what ail you?”
“De Buro des inform me, dat es I’se er young han’some man en you’se er gittin’ kinder ole en fat, dat we aint married nohow. En dey gimme er paper fur er dollar dat allow me ter marry de young lady er my choice. Dat sho is er great Buro!”
“We aint married?”