Requiem for a Nun

326 WILLIAM FAULKNER

the other nigger prisoners (I got five more right now, but I taken

them out back and locked them up in the coal house so you could have

some privacy) joined in too, and by the second or third Sunday night,

folks were stopping along the street to listen to them instead of

going to regular church. Of course, the other niggers would just be

in and out over Saturday and Sunday night for fighting or gambling or

vagrance or drunk, so just about the time they would begin to get in

tune, the whole choir would be a complete turnover. In fact, I had a

idea at one time to have the Marshal comb the nigger dives and joints

not for drunks and .-amblers, but basses and baritones.

(he starts to laugh, guffaws once, then catches himself;

he looks at Temple with something almost gentle, almost

articulate, in his face, taking (as though) by the borns,

facing frankly and openly the dilemma of his own in-

escapable vice)

Excuse me, Mrs Stevens. I talk too much. All I want to say is, this

whole county, not a man or woman, wife or mother either in the whole

state of Mississippi, that dont-dont feel-

(stopping again, looking at Temple)

There I am, still at it, still talking too much.

Wouldn't you like for Mrs Tubbs to bring you up a cup of coffee or

maybe a Coca-Cola? She's usually got a bottle or two of sody pop in

the icebox.

TEMPLE

No thank you, Mr Tubbs. If we could just see Nancy-

JAILOR

(turning) Sure, sure.

He crosses toward the rear, right, and disappears into the passage.

TEMPLE

The blindfold again. Out of a Coca-Cola bottle this time or a cup of

county-owned coffee.

Stevens takes the same pack of cigarettes from his overcoat pocket, though

Temple has declined before he can even offer them.