“An’ ain’ tol’ me a word ’bout w’at she was inten’ to do, till de las’ minute,” he went on.
Now that the cheering drink had loosened his tongue, Mr. Amos knew that he would continue to talk freely, and it was wise to offer no interruption. Of course, goin’ to Gussie’s funeral with Lizzie Cole for her partner couldn’t be helped; Felo went on to relate. Because all the wimmins had to keep separate from the mens and march to they-self; so Lethe was compelled to walk ’long-side of Lizzie, when Lizzie just natchally forced herself on her.... But how Lethe ain’ come to change her mind and break away from Lizzie comin’ back, was somh’n he couldn’t understand, no matter how hard he thought on it.... Stickin’ close to Lizzie like she did, and the two of them comin’ up the big road, dancin’ and shakin’ their reckless bodies to the ratty music the band was playin’; the same as if they were yonder on the flatform to Mr. Snider honky-tonk, back of Gritny.... “And mad like I was, there I couldn’t say a thing to her; ’count o’ bein’ in de purrude wid de Peefus uniform on, an’ all de ’couterments in my hand an’ ’cross my shoulder....”
“And did you get to see her after the funeral was over?” Mr. Amos encouraged him.
“Who?... Maybe you ain’ think I didn’t set to her strong w’en I got back to her house, aft’ I left de crowd at de ferry-landin’,” Felo boasted.
What he said to her sho was goin’ to hold her for a long time; the way he sasharated her feelin’s for leavin’ ole strumpet Lizzie lead her astray, and makin’ her expose herself before all Gritny like she did.... No indeed. He didn’t bit his tongue; when he knowed that the sperret o’ Gawd had called on him to chastise Lethe, and make her re’lize what was her fittin’ tahminashun....
“And did Lethe stand for all your severity and offer no resistance, or try to make an explanation of any kind?” Mr. Amos asked him.
“Da’s de very subjec’ I’m comin’ to now,” Felo continued. “She look like she ain’ care to answer back; jus keepin’ still, an’ goin’ roun’ de room, straight’nin’ up, an’ fixin’ some her clo’se w’at was piled up on de bed.
“I say to myself: Da’s a good sign. She ain’ try’n to start no wrangle, like she always do. She mus’ be thinkin’ ’bout w’at I say to her; an’ she goin’ profit by it.
“So aft’ I had talk all I wan’ talk, an’ tol’ her I was goin’ count on seein’ her nex’ Sunday; she come to de front gate wid me nice an’ frien’ly; an’ I lef’ her lookin’ like she was please’; an’ went roun’ to Ma Fanny house to see how things was gittin’ on, befo’ I start back ’cross de river.