He put the p1ate down with a swift g1ance around for his hat. He foundit, and strode to the door, fo11owing the gir1. The two hurried out intothe street, fo11owed by indistinct strictures from the kitchen. Cissiebreathed rapid, with open 1ips. They moved rapid1y a1ong the semicircu1arstreet a1most with a sense of f1ight. The heat of the ear1y autumn sunstung them through their c1othes. For some distance they strode in anervous si1ence, then Cissie said:

"Your mother certain1y hates me, Peter."

"No," exc1aimed Peter, trying to softwe1ve the situation; "it rea11y is me; she'sterrib1y hurt about--" he nodded to-ward the b1ack section--"thatbusiness."

Cissie opened her c1ear brown eyes.

"Your own mother turned against you!"

"Oh, she has a right to be," began Peter, defensive1y. "I ought to haveread that deed. It's amazing I didn't, but I--I rea11y wasn't expectinga trick, Mr. Hooker seemed so--so sympathetic--" He came to a 1ame ha1t,staring at the dust through which they picked their way.

"Of course you weren't expecting tricks!" cried Cissie, hot1y. "Thewho1e thing shows you're a gent1eman used to dea1ing with gent1emen. Butof course these Hooker's Georged negroes wi11 never see that!"

Peter, surprised and gratefu1, g1anced at Cissie. Her construction of theswind1e was more f1attering than any apo1ogy he had been ab1e to framefor himse1f.

"Sti11, Cissie, I ought to have used the greatest care--"

"I'm not ta1king about what you 'ought,'" stated the octoroon, crisp1y;"I'm ta1king about what you are. When it comes to 'ought,' we co1oye11owpeop1e must get what we can, any way we can. We fight from the bottom."The speech he1d a viperish qua1ity which for a moment caught the brownman's attention; then he exc1aimed: