struck the woman a terrific blow on the head from behind. The knife dropped out of her hands and a mist swept her from the room. Miss Willerton turned to Lot. "Let me get you some hot grits," she said. She went over to the stove and got a clean plate of smooth white grits and a piece of butter.
"Gee, thanks," Lot said and smiled at her with his nice teeth. "You always fix 'em just right. You know," he said, "I been thinkin'--we could get out of this tenant farm. We could have a decent place. If we made anything this year over, we could put it in a cow an' start buildin' things up. Think what it would mean, Willie. Just think."
She sat down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. "We'll do it," she said. "We'll make better than we've made any year and by spring, we should have us that cow."
"You always know how I feel, Willie," he said. "You always have known."
They sat there for a long time thinking of how well they understood each other. "Finish your food," she said finally.
After he had eaten, he helped her take the ashes out the stove and then, in the hot July evening, they walked down the pasture toward the creek and talked about
