he got it all wrong side up： it was men who sufferedbecause they had to put up with the ways of women—and this from the time that they were bornuntil the day they died。 But it was she who was right； she knew； with Frank she had always beenright； and it had not been her fault that Frank was the way he was； determined to live and die amon nigger。
But he was always swearing that he would do better； it was； perhaps； the brutality of hispenitence that had kept them together for so long。 There was something in her which loved to seehim bow—when he came home； stinking with whisky； and crept with tears into her arms。 Then he；so ultimately master； was mastered。 And holding him in her arms while； finally； he slept； shethought with the sensations of luxury and power： ‘But there’s a lots of good in Frank。 I just got tobe patient and he’ll e along all right。’ To ‘e along’ meant that he would change his waysand consent to be the husband she had traveled so far to find。 It was he who； unforgivably； taughther that there are people in the world for whom ‘ing along’ is a perpetual process； people whoare destined never to arrive。 For ten years he came along； but when he left her he was the sameman she had married。 He had not changed at all。
He had never made enough money to buy the home she wanted； or anything else she reallywanted； and this had been part of the trouble between them。 It was not that he could not makemoney； but that he would not save it。 He would take half a week’s wages and go out and buysomething he wanted； or something he thought she wanted。 He would e home on Saturdayafternoons； already half drunk； with some useless objects； such a vase； which； it had occurred tohim； she would like to fill with flowers—she who never noticed flowers and who would certainlynever have bought any。 Or a hat； always too expensive or too vulgar； or a ring that looked asthough it had been designed for a whore。 Sometimes it occurred to him to do the Saturday shopping on his way home； so that she would not have to do it； in which case he would buy aturkey； the biggest and most expensive he could find； and several pounds of coffee； it being hisbelief that there was never enough in the house； and enough breakfast cereal to feed an army for amonth。 Such foresight always filled him with such a sense of his own virtue that； as a kind ofreward； he would also buy himself a bottle of whisky； and—lest she should think that he wasdrinking too much—invite some ruffian home to share it with him。 Then they would sit allafternoon in her parlor； playing cards and telling indecent jokes； and making the air foul withwhisky and smoke。 She would sit in the kitchen； cold with rage and staring at the turkey； which；since Frank always bought them unplucked and with the head on； would cost her hours ofexasperating； bloody labor。 Then she would wonder what on earth had possessed her to undergosuch hard trial and travel so far from home； if all she had found was a two…room apartment in a cityshe did not like； and a man yet more childish than any she had known when she was youngSometimes from the parlor where he and his visitor sat he would call her：
‘Hey； Flo！’
And she would not answer。 She hated to be called ‘Flo；’ but he never remembered。 Hemight call her again； and when she did not answer he would e into the kitchen。
‘What’s the matter with you； girl？ Don’t you hear me a…calling you？’
And once when she still made no answer； but sat perfectly still； watching him with bittereyes； he was forced to make verbal recognition that there was something wrong。
‘What’s the matter； old lady？ You mad at me？’
And when in genuine bewilderment he stared at her； head to one side； the faintest of smileson his face； something began to yield in her； something she fought； standing up and snarling at himin a lowered voice so that the visitor might not hear：
‘I wish you’d tell me just how you think we’s going to live all week on a turkey and fivepounds of coffee？’
‘Honey； I ain’t bought nothing we didn’t need！’
She sighed in helpless fury； and felt tears springing to her eyes。
‘I done told you time and again to give me the money when you get paid； and let me do theshopping—’cause you ain’t got the sense that you was born with。’
‘Baby； I wasn’t doing a thing in the world but trying to help you out。 I thought maybe youwanted to go somewhere to…night and you didn’t want to be bothered with no shopping。’
‘Next time you want to do me a favor； you tell me first； you hear？ And how you expect meto go to a show when you done brought this bird home for me to clean？’
‘Honey； I’ll clean it。 It don’t take no time at all。’
He moved to the table where the turkey lay and looked at it critically； as though he wereseeing it for the first time。 Then he looked at her and ginned。 ‘That ain’t nothing to get mad about。’
She began to cry。 ‘I declare I don’t know what gets into you。 Every week the Lord sendsyou go out and do some foolishness。 How do you expect us to get enough money to get away fromhere if you all the time going to be spending your money on foolishness？’
When she cried； he tried to fort her； putting his great hand on her shoulder and kissingher where the tears fell。
‘Baby； I’m sorry。 I thought it’d be a nice surprise。’
‘The only surprise I want from you is to learn some sense！ That’d be a surprise！ You thinkI want to stay around here the rest of my life with these dirty niggers you al the time bring home？’
‘Where you expect us to live； honey； where we ain’t going to be with niggers？’
Then she turned away； looking out of the kitchen window。 It faced an elevated train thatpassed so close she always felt that she might spit in the faces of the flying； staring people。
‘I just don’t like all that ragtag … looks like you think so much of。’
Then there was silence。 Although she had turned her back to him； she felt that he was nolonger smiling and that his eyes； watching her； had darkened。
‘And what kind of man you think you married？’
‘I thought I married a man with some get up and go to him； who didn’t just want to stay onthe bottom all his life！’
‘And what you want me to me to do； Florence？ You want me to turn white？’
This question always filled her with an ecstasy of hatred。 She turned and faced him； and；forgetting that there was someone sitting in the parlor； shouted：
‘You ain’t got to be white to have some self…respect！ You reckon I slave in this house like Ido so you and them mon niggers can sit here every afternoon throwing ashes all over thefloor？’
‘And who’s mon now； Florence？’ he asked； quietly； in the immediate and awful silencein which she recognized her error。 ‘Who’s acting like a mon nigger now？ What you reckon myfriend is sitting there a…thinking？ I declare； I wouldn’t be surprise none if he wasn’t a…thinking：
“Poor Frank； he sure found him a mon wife。” Anyway； he ain’t putting his ashes on the floor—he putting them in the ashtray； just like he knew what a ashtray was。’ She knew that she had hurthim； and that he was angry； by the habit he had at such a moment of