All yo’ wan’s dat two dollahs fo’ is ter git in a crap game. SLIM (_advancing toward her menacingly_) Gimme some money! LUCY BELLE (_defiantly_) Nuffin’ doin’! SLIM Gimme it! Yo’ yere--? LUCY BELLE I give yo’ nuffin’! SLIM (_grabbing her by the wrist_) Come on! Gimme two dollahs! LUCY BELLE (_fiercely_) No, no--! Slim--le’ go! W’at’s de mattah wid yo’! Le’ go! SLIM Gimme it, or I’ll twis’ yo’ damn arm off! (_He slowly twists her wrist._) LUCY BELLE (_crying out in pain and fright_) Oh, mah Gawd! Slim! Slim! Stop--! Le’go! Don’--I’ll kill yo’ fo’ dis! SLIM (_between his teeth_) Git it! Git it! LUCY BELLE Slim! Fo’ Gawd’s sake! Oh, mah soul--don’--don’--(_Writhing with torture, she sinks to her knees._) SLIM Yo’ wan’ me ter twis’ it off--? LUCY BELLE (_choking with pain_) A-all right--Stop! All right, Slim. I’ll git it fo’ yo’! SLIM Will yo’--? LUCY BELLE Yas, yas. Stop--please--! Lemme up--lemme up--Slim-- (_He slowly turns her wrist back to normal and relaxing his grip somewhat allows her to rise. She stands limp and dazed for several moments, as though endeavoring to pull herself together. She draws her free hand slowly across her forehead._) SLIM (_with savage impatience_) Come on! (_He tightens his hold somewhat. She gives a little cry of pain, and her knees give. With Slim still gripping her wrist, she moves unsteadily to table, Center._) LUCY BELLE All right--all right, Slim. I’ll git it fo’ yo’--. (_He drops her wrist. She opens the small drawer of the table and takes out an old and worn leather pocket book. She extracts two one-dollar bills, hands them to him, then deftly stuffs the pocket book down in one of her stockings. Slim jams the bills into his pocket, turns and moves swiftly to the door, Back, and goes out._) LUCY BELLE (_crying out after him_) Yo’s a dirty dog! I--I’ll git yo’ fo’ dat--! (_Lucy Belle sinks down into a chair and covers her face with her hands. She looks up once and her face presents the picture of fierce, tearful rage. Presently a knock sounds on the door, Back. Lucy Belle jumps up with a start. The knock sounds again._) LUCY BELLE (_in faltering tones_) Come in! (_The door opens and Chick Avery enters. He is a weak-faced, but passably good-looking mulatto, of about thirty-five. He wears a suit of smart clothes, somewhat the worse for wear. His feet are encased in a pair of patent leather shoes which are slit about the toes to relieve the pressure on those members. He is partially bald, but what remains of his straight, jet-black hair is shiny from the generous use of hair oil, and is carefully brushed to cover the bald spots as much as possible. His manner for the most part, is extremely urbane and, by fits and starts, exuberantly mirthful._) CHICK (_doing a sort of clog dance toward her_) H’yo’, Luce--! LUCY BELLE (_exclaiming in mild surprise_) Why--why, ’lo, Chick--! CHICK How’s de baby--? LUCY BELLE Pretty good, I reckon. CHICK All by yo’ lonesome--?