it was not in the Southland that one could hope to keep a secret! And the niggers, of course, didn’t try, though they knew their white brothers and sisters and papas, and watched them, daily, strutting around in their white skins. And sometimes shoveled garbage for their kith and kin, and sometimes went, hat in hand, looking for a job, or on more desperate errands. But: they could do it, knowing what they knew. And white men couldn’t bear it—knowing that they knew: it is not only in the Orient that white is the color of death.
Boom
