There hadn't been a sound from upstairs when Dilsey came in and sent Ben and Luster on to the kitchen and said supper was ready.
"All right," I says.
She went out.
I sat there, reading the paper.
After a while I heard Dilsey looking in at the door.
"Whyn't you come on and eat?" she says.
"I'm waiting for supper," I says.
"Hit's on the table," she says. "I done told you."
"Is it?" I says. "Excuse me. I didn't hear anybody come down."
"They aint comin," she says. "You come on and eat, so I can take something up to them."
"Are they sick?" I says. "What did the doctor say it was?
Not Smallpox, I hope."
"Come on here, Jason," she says. "So I kin git done."
"All right," I says, raising the paper again. "I'm waiting for supper now."
I could feel her watching me at the door.
I read the paper.
"Whut you want to act like this fer?" she says. "When you knows how much bother I has anyway."
"If Mother is any sicker than she was when she came down to dinner, all right," I says.
"But as long as I am buying come down to the table to eat it.
Let me know when supper's ready," I says, reading the paper again.
I heard her climbing the stairs, dragging her feet and grunting and groaning like they were straight up and three feet apart.
I heard her at Mother's door, then I heard her calling Quentin, like the door was locked, then she went back to Mother's room and then Mother went and talked to Quentin.
Then they came down stairs.
I read the paper.
Dilsey came back to the door.
"Come on," she says, "fo you kin think up some mo devilment.
You just tryin yoself tonight."
I went to the diningroom.
Quentin was sitting with her head bent.
She had painted her face again.
Her nose looked like a porcelain insulator.
"I'm glad you feel well enough to come down," I says to Mother.
"It's little enough I can do for you, to come to the table," she says. "No matter how I feel.
I realise that when a man works all day he likes to be surrounded by his family at the supper table.
I want to please you.
I only wish you and Quentin got along better.
It would be easier for me."
"We get along all right," I says. "I dont mind her staying locked up in her room all day if she wants to.
But I cant have all this whoop-de-do and sulking at mealtimes.
I know that's a lot to ask her, but I'm that way in my own house.
Your house, I meant to say."
"It's yours," Mother says. "You are the head of it now."
Quentin hadn't looked up.
I helped the plates and she begun to eat.
"Did you get a good piece of meat?" I says. "If you didn't, I'll try to find you a better one."
She didn't say anything.
"I say, did you get a good piece of meat?" I says.
"What?" she says. "Yes.
It's all right."
"Will you have some more rice?" I says.