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“You can go around trying to fight every white man in Mississippi that hates colored people,” she said, “but it won’t do any good There’s a lot more of them than there is of you You can’t protect us Nobody can do that Not even God”

She turned to walk away, but then she looked back “But thank you for trying,” she said

Chapter 61

IN FOUR WEEKS OF LIVING at Maybelle’s, I’d come to realize that ht and day, that nothing ever really dried out

My clothes, my hand towel, and my shave toere always damp My hair was moist at all times As much as I toweled off, powdered with talc, and blotted itch hazel, my shirts and underclothes always retained a fil closet at the top of Maybelle’s stairs was a punishment, a torture, a prison

And besides, there was so ht

I longed for a letter from home

And hts of Elizabeth I could still feel our kiss in front of her house

I wondered if Roosevelt had ever gotten my wire Surely he would have sent soraph operator in McCo them?

And here I was, quite a sight, if anyone happened in to see me I lay crosswise on the iron bed, naked, atop sweat- around my head; every half hour or so, I refreshed it with cool water from the washbasin

But no one could win the battle against a Mississippi summer Your only hope was to lie low and move as little as possible

“Mr Corbett”

At first I thought the voice ca, but no, it came from outside

Beneath my

“Mr Corbett”