Walking over to his chair, Susan put her hand on his shoulder, and said quietly:
“Is you ever known me to tamper wid de devil aft’ I done beat ’im out my track?”
“You right, Susan. Da’s sufficien’,” he answered, and went on with his peaceful smoking.
The first member to arrive was Scilla, a tall, buxom, good-natured young woman with a snub nose and surprised-looking eyes. Her dress was a guinea blue, of plain make, the “josey” very close-fitting. Her head was bare; and her only ornamentation, a pair of large, flat, pearl earrings, which seemed to heighten the bizarre expression of her humorous face and the velvety sheen of her ebon complexion.
She came bursting into the room suddenly, calling out in mock-excitement:
“But no, Sis’ Susan! W’at you an’ Mr. Tom doin’, settin’ hyuh in de dark together like ole folks? Nobody ain’ come yet? Dis de right night, ain’ it?”
“For Gawd sake, Scilla, don’ be so boist’us,” Susan replied, getting up to light the lamps on the table, and quietly putting them in their places.
“O ’scuse me, Sis’ Susan; I didn’ know y’all was holin’ a wake,” returned Scilla playfully.
“Gal, set down an’ be still like people,” said Tom. “You ain’ bin hyuh for a week, an’ you mus’ be got some news to tell, ’side yo’ random talk. Susan, bring de gal a cup o’ coffee an’ leave her git to business.”