"Ain't I done outlined it right?"
"You've revealed some very delicate points with regard to the matter," he acknowledged.
"Of course I have, and you can't get away from it. But that ain't all. Now, to be frank with yu'. I wouldn't ceh so much about some triflin' no 'count nigga' marrying some old white woman; but that ain't the kind no white woman wants when she stoops so low as to marry a nigga'. Uh, naw! Naw indeedy! She don't fool with nothin' like that! She leaves that kind for some poor colored woman to break her heart and get her head broken over. She marries somebody like you with plenty of money and sense with it, see!"
He laughed amusedly.
"No laffin' in it. You know I'm tellin' the truth. So take warning! Don't marry no white woman up there and come trottin' down here expectin' me to give you blessin'. Because if you do, and just as sure as my name is Ida White, I'm going to do something to you!"
"But a white woman might help a fellow to get up in the world," he argued.
"Yes, I'll admit that, too. But ouh burden is ouh burden, and we've got to bear it. And, besides, you c'n get a girl that'll help you when you really want a wife. That ain't no argument. Of course I'd like to see Pearl married. But you ain't going to fool with her, and I know it. Pearl thinks she would like it better if she could marry somebody from out of Chicago; but they'd all be the same after a month or so with her."
"Well," said he, "I'd better get over to the Keystone. You've interested me today. I've learned something regarding the amalgamation of races...."
"I hope you have, if you had it in your mind. Anything else might be forgiven, but marrying a white woman—never!"
They parted then. She to her sewing, and Jean Baptiste to his thoughts....