He stood ohreshold of a small white room furnished only with an iron bed, a et, and two chairs. On the bed lay the terrible Negro he had met oairs at Singers house. His face was very black against the white, stiff pillows.
The dark eyes were hot with hatred but the heavy, bluish lips were posed. His face was motionless as a black mask except for the slow, wide flutters of his nostrils with each breath.
Get out, the Negro said.
Wait------ Jake said helplessly. Why do you say that?』
This is my house.』
Jake could not draw his eyes away from the Negros terrible face. But why?』
You are a white man and a stranger.』
Jake did not leave. He walked with cumbersome caution to
one of the straight white chairs aed himself. The Negro moved his hands on the terpane. His black eyes glittered with fever. Jake watched him. They waited. In the room there was a feeling tense as spiracy or as the deadly quiet before an explosion.
It was long past midnight. The warm, dark air of the spring m swirled the blue layers of smoke in the room. On the floor were crumpled balls of paper and a half-empty bottle of gin. Scattered ashes were gray on the terpane. Doctor Copeland pressed his head tensely into the pillow. He had removed his dressing-gown and the sleeves of his white cotton nightshirt were rolled to the elbow. Jake leaned forward in his chair. His tie was loosened and the collar of his shirt had wilted with sweat Through the hours there had growween them a long, exhausting dialogue. And noause had e.
So the time is ready for------ Jake began.But Doctor Copeland interrupted him. Now it is perhaps necessary that we------ he murmured huskily. Theyhalted. Each looked into the eyes of the other and waited. I beg your pardon, Doctor Copeland said.
Sorry, said Jake. Go on.』
No, you tinue.』
Well------ Jake said. I wont say what I started to say.
Instead well have one last word about the South. The strangled South. The wasted South, The slavish South.』
And the Negro people.』
To steady himself Jake swallowed a long, burning draught from the bottle on the floor beside him. Then deliberately he walked to the et and picked up a small, cheap globe of the world that served as a paperweight. Slowly he turhe sphere in his hands. All I say is this: The world is full of meanness and evil. Huh! Three fourths of this globe is in a state of war or oppression. The liars and fiends are united and the men who know are isolated and without defense. But! But if you was to ask me to point out the most uncivilized area on the face of this globe I would point here------』
Watch sharp, said Doctor Copeland. Youre out in the o.』
Jake turhe globe again and pressed his blunt, grimy thumb on a carefully selected spot. Here. These thirteen
states. I know what Im talking about. I read books and I go around. I been in every damn one of these thirteen states. Ive worked in every one. And the reason I think like I do is this: We live in the richest try in the world. Theres plenty and to spare for no man, woman, or child to be in want. And in addition to this our try was founded on what should have been a great, true principle—the freedom, equality, and rights of eadividual. Huh! And what has e of that start? There are corporations worth billions of dollars—and hundreds of thousands of people who doo eat. And here ihirteen states the exploitation of human beings is so that—that its