Presently the tightness in my face
relaxed, I moved my lips, smiling vaguely.
"In love," I repeated.
"Yaas, Mars' Ormon'."
"When?"
"'Fore yo' know h'it, honey."
"Tell me more."
"'Spec' ah done tole yo' too much, honey." She looked at me steadily.
"Pore Mars' Gawge," she murmured, "'spec' ah done tole yo' too much. But
it sho' am a-comin', honey, an' h'it gwine come pow'ful sudden, an' h'it
gwine mek yo' pow'ful sick."
"Am I to win her?"
"No, honey."
"Is there no hope, Aunt Tulip?"
She hesitated as though at fault; I felt the tenseness in my face once
more; then, for one instant, I lost track of time; for presently I found
myself standing in the hallway watching Sir Lupus through the open door
of the gun-room, and Sir Lupus was very angry.
"Dammy!" he roared, "am I to eat my plate? Cato! I want my porridge!"
Confused, I stood blinking at him, and he at table, bibbed like a babe,
mad as a hornet, hammering on the cloth with a great silver spoon and
bellowing that they meant to starve him.
"I don't remember how I came here," I began, then flushed furiously at
my foolishness.
"Remember!" he shouted. "I don't remember anything! I don't want to
remember anything! I want my porridge! I want it now! Damnation!"
Cato, hastening past me with the steaming dish, was received with a
yelp.
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