“Who invite you to come hyuh, any way?” She asked, indifferently.
“I ain’ had to wait for no inv’tation,” he answered curtly. “I come hyuh ’cause my min’ lead me to come hyuh. To see how you gittin’ ’long.... To bring you dis aw’inge-rine purzerve I made for you.” (Offering her a glass of home-made orange marmalade.)
She looked at him unmoved; without a show of surprise, resentment or just indignation; wondering what to say to him. Was he conscious of his meanness, she thought. If so, was she ready to forgive him, having had time to consider her unwarranted jealousy, provoked by Lizzie’s malicious gossip? But why did she doubt Felo when he tried to make her know that Lizzie lied. She knew he never showed any interest in other women as long as she had known him. And if he came specially to see her today, surely he would be ready to stand the expense of a few missing teeth. What was the loss of a few teeth compared with the loss of a friendly company-keeper like Felo?... And any way, wasn’t she the one who struck the first blow?...
Having deliberated with herself to her apparent satisfaction, she told him to put the glass of marmalade in the kitchen, “till I ketch me one dese chickens to make some soup.”
“You goin’ have comp’ny?” Felo asked. The thought of chicken seeming to indicate the approach of some festive occasion.
“W’at I wan’ do havin’ comp’ny, wid all dese teeth missin’ out de front o’ my mouth?” She replied sharply; wondering at his total lack of judgment. “People can’t eat chicken out dey own yard lessen dey gotta have comp’ny to eat wid ’um?”
“I ain’ findin’ fault wid you ’bout yo’ likin’s, Lethe,” he apologized. “I was thinkin’ ’bout you settin’ down by yo’self, eating lonesome; ’dout anybody to talk wid you, da’s all.”
Her frown seemed to deepen, and her voice assumed a tone of annoyance.
“Wa’t I want wid anybody comin’ hyuh to talk to me, all lavadated like I is; wid all dese teeth missin’ in de front o’ my mouth? You come hyuh to make game an’ crow over me, ’stid o’ beggin’ my pardner for de nasty trick you done played on me?... You ain’ think one li’l ole glass o’ aw’inge-rine purzerve kin make up for de wrong you done commit, is you? You mus’ be a fatal fool, if you do.”
Felo looked at her appealingly. He was ready to make any number of apologies, if she would only listen. As for the teeth, she “oughta know de one w’at broke ’um called on to put new ones in dey place; if ’e any kind o’ man w’at calls ’imself a man.”