“Perfectly. Is that an excuse for saying it?”
“The facts ought to be known.”
“Yes, but ought you to tell them?”
“If not I, who?”
“Someone who is less useful elsewhere, and whom I like less.”
“Carrie,” he had been intensely earnest. “I want to do the best thing, but I’m puzzled. I wonder if I’m selling my birthright for six thousand dollars?”
“In case of doubt, do it.”
“But there’s the doubt: I may convert; I may open the eyes of the blind; I may start a crusade for Negro rights.”
“Don’t believe it; it’s useless; we’ll never get our rights in this land.”
“You don’t believe that!” he had ejaculated, shocked.
Well, she must begin again. As she had hoped, he was waiting for her when she reached home. She welcomed him cordially, made a little music for him, and served tea.
“Bles,” she said, “the Opposition has been laying a pretty shrewd trap for you.”
“What?” he asked absently.
“They are going to have you chosen as High School commencement orator.”
“Me? Stuff!”