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Yo' dawn' want to spite mae, do yo'?" "I didn' saay it t' spite yo', Jimmy. I said it saw's yo' sudn' feel saw baad." He smiled mournfully. "Poor Essy," he said. She gave him a queer look. "Yo' needn' pity mae," she said. He went away considerably relieved in his mind, but still suffering that sullen uneasiness in his soul. It was the last week in June.
"Yo' moosn' suppawse I dawn feel baad, Essy. I've laaid awaake manny a night, thinkin' what I've doon t'yo'." "What 'ave yo' doon, Jimmy? Yo' maade mae 'appy fer sex moonths. An' there's t' baaby. I didn' want 'im before 'e coom seemed like I'd 'ave t' 'ave 'im stead o' yo'. But yo' can goa right awaay, Jimmy, an' I sudn' keer ef I navver saw yo' again, so long's I 'ad 'im."
Then she looked up at him, but with more incredulity than reproach. "Yo' wudn'," she said. "Yo' cudn' bae crool t' lil Jimmy." He scowled. "Yo've called 'im thot, Essy?" "An' why sudn' I call 'im? 'E's a right to thot naame, annyhow. Yo' caann't taake thot awaay from 'im." "I dawn' want t' taake it away from 'im. But I wish yo' 'adn'. I wish you 'adn', Essy."
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