Gawd’s truf! Nevah done a thin’. Dick Simpson an’ Mink Hall start ter fight--an’ fust thin’ I knows somebody bus’ me-- LUCY BELLE I ain’ carin’ ’bout w’at happen--all I knows-- SLIM Luce-- LUCY BELLE Done feed yo’ all I’se gwine ter! SLIM Wan’ me ter starve? LUCY BELLE Git out an’ hussle--now. Yo’s a lot bettah able den I is. SLIM (_harshly reproachful_) Gittin’ hard as hell, ain’ yo? LUCY BELLE I reckon I’se gittin’ wise in mah ole age. SLIM Len’ me a dollah, den. LUCY BELLE Len’ yo’ nuffin’, Slim. SLIM Fifty cents--! LUCY BELLE (_emphatically, as she shakes her head_) No--! SLIM Keep me gwine till termorrer. LUCY BELLE Nuffin’ doin’. SLIM (_clenching his fists and coming toward her menacingly_) Yo’ bettah by a damn sight change yo’ min’! LUCY BELLE (_backing away_) Yo’ keep ’way from me, Slim Dorsey! SLIM (_with a savage shout_) Gimme a dollah--! LUCY BELLE (_stopping abruptly and standing her ground squarely_) Die fo’ I give yo’ ’noder cent! (_He leans forward as though to lunge at her. She steps back a pace._) Don’ yo’ dare lay a han’ on me! Don’ yo’ dare! I’se gwine ter yell “_Po_-lice!” an’ “Murder!” ef yo’ tech me--! (_Old man Pocher is heard coming heavily down the stairs, Right. Both Slim and Lucy Belle turn and listen._) LUCY BELLE Sen’ ole man Pocher out fo’ he’p. (_Slim hesitates for a moment or two, then turns and slinks to the door, Back._) SLIM (_turning at the door_) I git yo’ fo’ dis! LUCY BELLE (_defiantly_) Git me! (_She turns and stands listening as Pocher descends the stairs. At length the door, Right, opens and the old man enters carrying a very old black leather portmanteau--so old and battered and scarred that it looks as though it were about to fall to pieces. There is fiery resolve in Pocher’s eyes. He gives Lucy Belle a sharp glance and makes directly for the door, Back._) LUCY BELLE (_hesitatingly_) H’yo’, Mistah Pocher--! POCHER (_halting and glaring at her_) W’at--? LUCY BELLE Yo’--yo’ gwine ’way? POCHER Sho’ I’se gwine ’way. LUCY BELLE Visit yo’ son--? POCHER (_fiercely_) I’se gwine ter leave dis place fo’ good. LUCY BELLE Leave--fo’ good--! POCHER Tol’ yo’ I was’n’ gwine ter put up wid dat nonsense no longer. LUCY BELLE Oh, but, Mistah Pocher-- POCHER Had er vision dat somebody gwine ter make dem evil sparits riz up on me agin. Pack mah valise dis mawnin’ ter be ready. LUCY BELLE I ain’ gwine ter let it happen agin. POCHER Yo’ say dat befo’. LUCY BELLE Gwine ter de station right dis minute an’ put de _po_-lice on ’em. POCHER Kin feel dem sparits wukkin’ on me now. LUCY BELLE Yo’ kin break de spell. POCHER I’se gwine ter break it by gittin’ ’way. LUCY BELLE Please, Mistah Pocher--don’ go off like dis-- POCHER (_taking a step or two toward the door_) Kain’t stan’ it yere no longer. LUCY BELLE Gimme anoder chanct. POCHER (_pausing_) Warn yo’ ha’f er dozen times. LUCY BELLE I know--I know-- POCHER (_proceeding toward the door_)