Upon the flooring, directly before the door, and not far from it, was a pool of blood. Standing over the pool was a table, and upon it lay the carcass of a shark. Maria sat on a bench behind the table. As the men entered she swung an immense cleaver downward. A cross-section of the shark detached itself and fell away on a pile of similar slices. A thin stream of blood dribbled from the table, augmenting the pool upon the floor. Maria did not raise her eyes from her task. Again the cleaver swung up, and whistled downward. From the street sounded the clatter of the returning patrol. “I’ll wait for you in the wagon,” said the Coroner hastily, and stepped back into the sunlight. But he was not long alone. The uninterrupted swing of the dripping cleaver was depressing, and the enthusiasm of his associate waned. The bell clanged. Hoofs struck sparks from the cobbles, and the strong but uncertain arm of the law was withdrawn, to attend to other and more congenial business. § The sound from the retreating wagon dwindled and ceased. For a moment Catfish Row held its breath; then its windows and doors flew open, and poured its life out into the incomparable autumn weather. The crisis had passed. There had been no arrests. Serena stepped forth, her arms filled with the morning’s wash. “‘Ain’t it hahd tuh be er nigger!’” someone sang in a loud, clear voice. And everybody laughed. Down the street, like an approaching freight train, came the drays, jarring the building and rattling the windows, as the heavy tires rang against the cobbles. Bess and Porgy came out with the others, and seated themselves against the wall in the gracious sunlight. Of the life, yet apart from it, sufficient unto each other, they did not join in the loud talk and badinage that was going on about them. Like people who had come on a long, dark journey, they were content to sit, and breathe deeply of the sun. The baby was sleeping in Bess’s arms, and from time to time she would sing a stave to it in a soft, husky voice. Into the court strode a group of stevedores. Their strong white teeth flashed in the sunshine, and their big, panther-like bodies moved easily among the women and children that crowded about them. “Wey all de gals?” called one in a loud, resonant voice. “Mus’ be dey ain’t know dat dis is pay-day.” Two women who were sitting near Porgy and Bess rose and went forward, with their arms twined about each other’s waists. In a few minutes they were out of the crowd again, each looking up with admiring eyes into the face of one of the men. “Mens an’ ’omans ain’t de same,” said Porgy. “One mont’ ago dem gals been libbin’ wid dey own mens. Den de storm tek um. Now dey is fuhgit um a’ready, an’ gibbin’ dey lub tuh de nex’.”