wouldn' send me away, not after I come all dis way to see you. I been comin four days to git here. Stand still and lemme look at you good. I swear to Gawd, you ain' hardly changed." In the half-light, his black eyes peered at her. "You look better'n I ever see you. Yes, you is!"
His hand reached out and touched her shoulder, but Mary drew away and she felt her lips curling proudly, even if they did tremble.
"I might be ain' changed on de outside, but I sho is changed on de inside. Yessuh! Dis ain' de same silly gal you left, July. No. Don' fool yousef." She looked straight at him. Her weakness was passing, and the dim light was helping her hide it. July couldn't see how she shook from head to foot.
"Ki," she laughed. "I been duh talk 'bout you no longer'n last month. I told dem people right yonder at Heaven's Gate Church if you was to come home cold an' stiff in a box, I could look at you same as a stranger an' not a water wouldn' drean out my eye. I mean it, July." She nodded her head for emphasis. Then she pointed to the street.
"You may as well go on. I got to cook supper. I'm hungry. I ain' hardly eat good since breakfast."
But July persisted. "May-e, you listen.
