jest makin' b'lieve, 'cause they hain't got no idee what they ought to
do.... I've knowed 'em these thirty year--right down _knowed_ 'em. Lemme
tell you they hain't a finer folks on earth, bar nobody. They don't show
much outside, but the insides is right. You kin find more kindness and
charity and long-sufferin' and tenderness and goodness right here
amongst the cantankerous-seemin' of Coldriver 'n you kin find anywheres
else on earth.... They're narrer, Eva, and they got sot notions, but
they got a power to do kindness, once you git 'em started at it, that
hain't to be beat.... I kind of calculate God hain't so disapp'inted
with the folks of Coldriver as a stranger might git the idee he is....
Now we'll go ahead."

When Scattergood had done asking questions and receiving answers, he sat
silent for a matter of moments. Automatically his hands strayed to the
lacing of his shoes, for his pudgy toes itched for freedom to wiggle. He
dealt with a problem whose complex elements were human emotions and
prejudices, and at such times he found his brain to act more clearly and
efficiently with shoes removed. He detected himself, however, in the act
of untying the laces, and sat upright with ludicrous suddenness.

"Um!..." he said, in some confusion. "Mandy says I hain't never to do it
when wimmin is around. Dunno why.... Now they's some p'ints I got to
impress on you."

"Yes, Mr. Baines," said Yvette, who had reached a condition of respect
and confidence in Scattergood--as most people did upon meeting him face
to face.

"Fust, Homer hain't no sanitorium for weary wimmin. When you kin come
and say, meanin' it from your heart, 'I love Homer,' then we'll see."