John. Yes, up North. Philadelphia.
Emma. Married yet?
John. Oh yes, seventeen years ago. But my wife is dead now and so I came as soon as it was decent to find you. I wants to marry you. I couldn’t die happy if I didn’t. Couldn’t get over you—couldn’t forget. Forget me, Emma?
Emma. Naw, John. How could I?
John (leans over impulsively to catch her hand). Oh, Emma, I love you so much. Strike a light honey so I can see you—see if you changed much. You was such a handsome girl!
Emma. We don’t exactly need no light, do we, John, tuh jus’ set an’ talk?
John. Yes, we do, Honey. Gwan, make a light. Ah wanna see you.
(There is a silence.)
Emma. Bet you’ wife wuz some high-yaller dickty-doo.
John. Naw she wasn’t neither. She was jus’ as much like you as Ah could get her. Make a light an’ Ah’ll show you her pictcher. Shucks, ah gotta look at mah old sweetheart. (He strikes a match and holds it up between their faces and they look intently at each other over it until it burns out.) You aint changed none atall, Emma, jus’ as pretty as a speckled pup yet.