_Lincoln_: No, sir, it is not all, sir. I don't like this coat. I am going to change it. I shall be back in a minute or two, and if a gentleman named Mr. William Custis calls, ask him to wait in here. _He goes out_. SUSAN _collects the teacups. As she is going to the door a quiet, grave white-haired negro appears facing her_. SUSAN _starts violently_. _The Negro (he talks slowly and very quietly)_: It is all right. _Susan_: And who in the name of night might you be? _The Negro_: Mista William Custis. Mista Lincoln tell me to come here. Nobody stop me, so I come to look for him. _Susan_: Are you Mr. William Custis? _Custis_: Yes. _Susan_: Mr. Lincoln will be here directly. He's gone to change his coat. You'd better sit down. _Custis_: Yes. _He does so, looking about him with a certain pathetic inquisitiveness_. Mista Lincoln live here. You his servant? A very fine thing for young girl to be servant to Mista Lincoln. _Susan_: Well, we get on very well together. _Custis_: A very bad thing to be slave in South. _Susan_: Look here, you Mr. Custis, don't you go mixing me up with slaves. _Custis_: No, you not slave. You servant, but you free body. That very mighty thing. A poor servant, born free. _Susan_: Yes, but look here, are you pitying me, with your poor servant? _Custis_: Pity? No. I think you very mighty. _Susan_: Well, I don't know so much about mighty. But I expect you're right. It isn't every one that rises to the White House. _Custis_: It not every one that is free body. That is why you mighty. _Susan_: I've never thought much about it. _Custis:_ I think always about it. _Susan_: I suppose you're free, aren't you? _Custis_: Yes. Not born free. I was beaten when I a little nigger. I saw my mother--I will not remember what I saw. _Susan_: I'm sorry, Mr. Custis. That was wrong. _Custis_: Yes. Wrong. _Susan_: Are all nig--I mean are all black gentlemen like you? _Custis_: No. I have advantages. They not many have advantages. _Susan_: No, I suppose not. Here's Mr. Lincoln coming. LINCOLN, _coated after his heart's desire, comes to the door_. CUSTIS _rises_. This is the gentleman you said, sir. _She goes out with the tray. Lincoln:_ Mr. Custis, I'm very glad to see you. _He offers his hand_. CUSTIS _takes it, and is about to kiss it_. LINCOLN _stops him gently. (Sitting):_ Sit down, will you? _Custis (still standing, keeping his hat in his hand):_ It very kind of Mista Lincoln ask me to come to see him. _Lincoln_: I was afraid you might refuse. _Custis:_ A little shy? Yes. But so much to ask Glad to come. _Lincoln_: Please sit down. _Custis_: Polite? _Lincoln_: Please. I can't sit myself, you see, if you don't. _Custis_: Black, black. White, white. _Lincoln_: Nonsense. Just two old men, sitting together (CUSTIS _sits to_ LINCOLN'S _gesture_)--and talking. _Custis_: I think I older man than Mista Lincoln. _Lincoln_: Yes, I expect you are, I'm fifty-four. _Custis_: I seventy-two.