The things we do!

Dunwody's mother," said
Josephine carelessly.
"Yassam!"
"His sister?"
"Yassam!"
"Or his wife, perhaps?"
"Yassam, ef they really wuz one."
"Was there ever?" demanded Josephine sharply.
"Might a-been none, er might a-been a dozen, fur's I know. Us
folks don' study much 'bout whut white folks does."
"You must have known if there was any such person about--you've
been here for years. Don't talk nonsense!"
Temptation showed on Sally's face. The next instant the film came
again over the small brown eyes, the mask shut down again, as the
ancient negro racial secretiveness resumed sway. Josephine did not
ask for what she knew would be a lie.
"Where is my own maid, Jeanne?" she demanded. "I am anxious about
her."
"I dunno, Ma'am."
"Is she safe--has she been cared for?"
"I reckon she's all right."
"Can you bring her to me?"
"I'll try, Ma'am."
But breakfast passed and no Jeanne appeared. From the great house
came no sounds of human occupancy.


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