"No, it's just begun."
"Just begun?" echoed Mary in amazement.
"Think of the servile black folk, the half awakened restless whites, the fat land waiting for the harvest, the masses panting to know—why, the battle is scarcely even begun."
"Yes, I guess that's so," Mary began to comprehend. "We'll thank God it has begun, though."
"Thank God!" Zora reverently repeated.
"Come, let's go back to poor, dear Miss Smith," suggested Mary.
"I can't come just now—but pretty soon."
"Why? Oh, I see; you're trying on something—how pretty and becoming! Well, hurry."
As they stood together, the white woman deemed the moment opportune; she slipped her arm about the black woman's waist and began:
"Zora, I've had something on my mind for a long time, and I shouldn't wonder if you had thought of the same thing."