Page:The Blacker the Berry - Thurman - 1929.djvu/136

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128
THE BLACKER THE BERRY . . .

“She did, but I jived her along, so she ditched him, and gave me her address. I met her there later.”

Braxton was now ready to get into the bed. All this time he had been preparing himself in his usual bedtime manner. His face had been cold-creamed, his hair greased and tightly covered by a silken stocking cap. This done, he climbed over Alva and lay on top of the covers. They were silent for a moment, then Braxton laughed softly to himself.

“Where’d you go last night?”

“Where’d I go?” Alva seemed surprised. “Why I came home, where’d ya think I went?” Braxton laughed again.

“Oh, I thought maybe you’d really made a date with that coal scuttle blond you danced with.”

“Ya musta thought it.”

“Well, ya seemed pretty sweet on her.”

“Whaddaya mean, sweet? Just because I danced with her once. I took pity on her, cause she looked so lonesome with those ofays. Wonder who they was?”

“Oh, she probably works for them. It’s good you danced with her. Nobody else would.”

“I didn’t see nothing wrong with her. She might have been a little dark.”

“Little dark is right, and you know when they comes blacker’n me, they ain’t got no go.”_Braxton was a reddish brown aristocrat, with clear-cut features