MARY. I can't do it, I tell you. I can't! I'd rather die. Look at me. Ain't I almost white? Look at him. He's black and I hate him. I can't marry no nigger. Oh, don't make me do it.
MORGAN. White! What's that got to do with your marryin'? Ain't you a ...? You don't think you can marry a white man, do you? I tell you you've got to decide to-night. I've been after you now for two years and, gal, you've got to do it!
MARY. Don't make me do it! I hate him. I ain't black. Oh, Lord!...
MORGAN. [Desperately.] Candace!
MARY. [Clutching at his arm.] Don't tell her. I ain't goin' to see her drove out in the cold from her home. Don't tell her.
[Aunt Candace still looks in the fire. Jim sits lost in amazement, idly strumming his guitar.
MORGAN. Well?
MARY. [Looking wildly around, as if seeking help.] Oh!...
MORGAN. [Wiping his face.] Gal, I don't want to be too hard on you. But use common sense. I've been good to you. They ain't another man in the county that would have kept you for the last three years, an' losin' money on you every year. I'm done of it, gal, I'm done. Marry Jim.
MARY. He wouldn't let you do it if he was here. He wouldn't.