Fannie turned on him like a tigress. "Don't you cuss hyeah befo' me; I ain't nevah brung you up to it, an' I won't stan' it. Go to dem whaih you larned it, an whaih de wo'ds soun' sweet." The boy started to speak, but she checked him. "Don't you daih to cuss ag'in or befo' Gawd dey 'll be somep'n fu' one o' dis fambly to be rottin' in jail fu'!"
The boy was cowed by his mother's manner. He was gathering his few belongings in a bundle.
"I ain't goin' to cuss," he said sullenly, "I 'm goin' out o' your way."
"Oh, go on," she said, "go on. It 's been a long time sence you been my son. You on yo' way to hell, an' you is been fu' lo dese many days."
Joe got out of the house as soon as possible. He did not speak to Kit nor look at his mother. He felt like a cur, because he knew deep down in his heart that he had only been waiting for some excuse to take this step.
As he slammed the door behind him, his mother flung herself down by Kit's side and mingled her tears with her daughter's. But Kit did not raise her head.
"Dey ain't nothin' lef' but you now, Kit;" but the girl did not speak, she only shook with hard sobs.
Then her mother raised her head and almost screamed, "My Gawd, not you, Kit!" The girl rose, and then dropped unconscious in her mother's arms.
Joe took his clothes to a lodging-house that he knew of, and then went to the club to drink himself up to the point of going to see Hattie after the show.