With mounting indignation at Beeler's tone.
De Bible kin', dat's what kin'! De kin' what makes de lame fer to walk, and de blin' fer to see, an' de daid fer to riz up outen their daid col' graves. That's what kin'! Mean to say you-all ain' heerd nothin' 'bout him, you po' chillun o' dawkness?
Martha and Beeler look at each other in amazement. Rhoda sits looking at the old negro, white and tense with excitement.
Beeler.
Nope.
Recollecting.
Hold on!
Martha.
To Beeler.
Don't you remember, in the papers, two or three weeks ago? Where was it? Somewheres out West.