The two quilt linings, made out of unbleached homespun, were spread on the clean bare floor, and covered over with a smooth layer of cotton.
“How come you got such nice clean cotton to put in you’ quilt?” Zeda inquired with an innocent look across at Big Sue.
When Big Sue paid her no heed, she added brazenly, “De cotton April gi’ me fo’ my quilt was so trashy and dark I had to whip em wid pine-tops half a day to get de dirt out clean enough to use.”
Still Big Sue said nothing.
“You must be stand well wid April.” Zeda looked at Big Sue with a smile.
Big Sue raised her shoulders up from doubling over, and in a tart tone blurted out, “You talks too much, Zeda. Shut you’ mouth and work.”
“Who? Me?” Zeda came back pleasantly. “Great Gawd! I was praisin’ de whiteness of de cotton, dat was all.”
Two of the patch-work covers that Big Sue had fashioned with such pains, stitch by stitch, square by square, were opened out wide and examined and admired.
“Which one you want, Zeda? You take de first pick.”
“Lawd, all two is so nice it’s hard to say.”