"Oh, bless Gawd! dat you'se outen dat bed! and dressed and tryin' yo' po' legs about the room.

He's comin' up.

Got a man wid him I ain't neber see befo'.

Says he's a-lookin' fer somebody! Git in de closet an' I'll tell him you'se out an' den I'll run an' watch for Marse Harry at de gate.

Oh, I doan' like dis yere bus'ness," and she began to wring her hands.
St.George, who had been listening to the old woman with mingled feelings of wonder and curiosity, raised his hand to silence her.
Whether she had gone daft or was more than usually excited he could not for the moment decide.
"Get your breath, Jemima, and tell me what you're talking about.