Mammy was sitting at the table lingering over her dinner. She never liked to cut short this happy hour of the day, and was fond of picking here and picking there, though she would not remain at the table if anyone entered. It would never do to have "white folkes" see you eat.
"I thes gwine to cl'ar away," she said with a beaming smile as she swept bones and potato skins into her empty plate.
"Oh, Mammy, you haven't finished your dinner," exclaimed Linda.
"Yas, I done et all I wants. I thes res'in' up a little 'fo' I does mah dishes. Set down, honey, an' tell yo' Mammy what yuh-all been a-doin' whilst yuh was up in de city. Mighty fine doin's, I reckon. Yuh stay at de big hotel?"
"Yes."
"An' w'ar dat nice floppity white frock?"
"Yes, I wore it several times."
"An' yuh has uver so many nice young gem'mans come to see yuh?"
"Not very many. You see I don't know a great many people, and I am not going to dances this winter, of course. Mr. Jeffreys came up while I was there, and he is a nice young gentleman, I am sure."
Mammy began delicately to wipe her tumblers. "Miss Lindy, yuh ain't gwine ma'y dat man, is yuh?"