DuBose Heyward

DuBose Heyward

Summary

Portrait of DuBose Heyward DuBose Heyward Porgy — Part III. (1925)

Gathering the little heap of pennies and nickels, he passed them behind him to Bess, who squatted in the shadows. She took the money in silence, counted it, dropped it into her apron pocket, and continued to watch the game intently, smiling her cryptic smile when Porgy won, but saying scarcely anything at all.
The negro known as Sportin' Life had come in just as the game was commencing, and had sat in. That he was not altogether above suspicion was evidenced by the fact that the little circle of men refused to allow him to use his own dice, and told him so frankly.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of DuBose Heyward DuBose Heyward Porgy — Part III. (1925)

Bess lay upon the bed in Porgy's room and stared at the ceiling with hard, bright eyes. From time to time she would pluck at the sheet that covered her and utter hurried, indistinct sentences that bore not the slightest relation to existing circumstances. A week had passed since her release, and its seven interminable days had been spent in this fashion.
Porgy was out upon the day's rounds. Occasionally the door to the sick-room would open, and an awed, black face peer in.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of DuBose Heyward DuBose Heyward Porgy — Part III. (1925)

As they walked past his doorway, so close that he could have touched the nearest officer with his hand, she looked down, and her gaze focussed upon the sitting figure. Her body stiffened, and her head lifted with the old, incongruous gesture of disdain.
"Bess!" called Porgy once very loudly; and again, in a voice that sagged, "Bess!"
One of the policemen paused and looked down upon the speaker. But the woman turned deliberately away, and he hastened to rejoin the party. Then the wagon clanged down the darkened street.
Source: Wikisource

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