(John and Emma go buy ice-cream. They coquettishly eat from each other’s spoons. Old Man Lizzimore crosses to Effie and removes his hat and bows with a great flourish.)
Lizzimore. Sam ain’t here t’night, is he, Effie.
Effie (embarrassed). Naw suh, he aint.
Lizz. Well, you like chicken? (Extends arm to her.) Take a wing!
(He struts her up to the table amid the laughter of the house. He wears no collar.)
John (squeezes Emma’s hand). You certainly is a ever loving mamma—when you aint mad.
Emma (smiles sheepishly). You oughtn’t to make me mad then.
John. Ah don’t make you! You makes yo’self mad, den blame it on me. Ah keep on tellin’ you Ah don’t love nobody but you. Ah knows heaps uh half-white girls Ah could git ef Ah wanted to. But (he squeezes her hard again) Ah jus’ wants you! You know what they say! De darker de berry, de sweeter de taste!
Emma (pretending to pout). Oh, you tries to run over me an’ keep it under de cover, but Ah won’t let yuh. (Both laugh.) Les’ we eat our basket!
John. Alright. (He pulls the basket out and she removes the table cloth. They set the basket on their knees and begin to eat fried chicken.)