“Here, here! What's all this about?” he asked, in a firm tone, though evidently amused.
“Who are you?” returned the girl, as she shoved herself quickly back against the pillows and drew the covers close under her chin, looking at him oddly over their top.
“She done been cuttin' up somefin' awful,” Mandy explained, as she tried to regain enough breath for a new encounter.
“Cutting up? You surprise me, Miss Polly,” he said, with mock seriousness.
“How do you know I'm Polly?” the little rebel asked, her eyes gleaming large and desperate above the friendly covers.
“If you will be VERY good and keep very quiet, I will try to tell you,” he said, as he crossed to the bed.
“I won't be quiet, not for nobody,” Polly objected, with a bold disregard of double negatives. “I got to get a move. If you ain't goin' to help me, you needn't butt in.”
“I am afraid I can't help you to go just yet,” Douglas replied. He was beginning to perceive that there were tasks before him other than the shaping of Polly's character.
“What are you trying to do to me, anyhow?” she asked, as she shot a glance of suspicion from the pastor to Mandy. “What am I up against?”
“Don't yuh be scared, honey,” Mandy reassured her. “You's jes' as safe here as you done been in de circus.”