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On arriving at "The Wigwam," Jen presented his card, and was shown into the drawing-room, there to wait the arrival of Mrs. Dallas. Although it was nearly eleven o'clock the indolent Creole was not yet out of bed, but on hearing that the major had called to see her, she sent Dido to inform him that she would shortly accord him an interview. The negress, as gloomy and sullen as ever, delivered this message with folded arms and bent head. Then, without even a look at him, she turned to leave the room, when Jen placed himself between her and the door. "There isn't any table—" she had begun, still with slight protest in her voice, when Bruce ushered them up the narrow vertical stair to the larger room above where more tables and windows made a cozy dining place for about a dozen people. "Nothin' else," retorted the tramp sullenly. "My father was black, an' my mother she was white; an' they weren't married. I was brought up in Battersea parish, so I took that name, I did, not havin' any right to another name.".
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And there I sat in my front room, being embraced in a perfume of everybody's lilacs and hawthorns and affectionate interest and moonlight, with a letter in my hand from the man whose two photographs and letters I used to keep locked up in my desk. Is it any wonder I tingled when he told me that he had never come back because he couldn't have me, and that now the minute he landed in England he was going to lay his heart at my feet? I added his colonial honours to his prostrate heart myself, and my own beat at the prospect. All the eight years faded away, and I was again back in the old garden down at Aunt Adeline's cottage saying good-bye, folded up in his arms. That's the way my memory put the scene to me, but the word "folded" made me remember that blue muslin dress again. I had promised to keep it and wear it for him when he came back—and I couldn't forget that the blue belt was just twenty-three inches and mine is—no, I won't write it. I had got that dress out of the old trunk not ten minutes after I had read the letter and measured it. A kind of terror showed itself in the dilated eyes of the negress. She could not understand how Jen had become possessed of a knowledge of her crimes, and at first was struck with stupor by the recital. The idea lodged in Patricia's fertile brain was not so easily routed out. "No," said Dido, bluntly, "I say dat I in de room, but I no kill dat man.".
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