“Sum’ bitch!” Depro said. “Davis, did you tell anybody I’m the one sold them guns?”
“No, why would I do that?”
“It says here that they know I’m the one that sold the guns to the Injuns. Only it warn’t just me, it was me, you and Regret. And I ain’t plannin’ on takin’ all the blame my ownself.”
As she poured water into the basin, the girl saw Regret staring at her from the bed. She picked up the basin and started to step behind the dressing screen.
“Where the hell do you think you are goin’?” Regret asked.
“I’m going behind the dressing screen for my ablutions,” she answered.
“For your what?”
“To wash myself.”
“Why do you have to go behind a screen, just to wash yourself?”
“Because I’ll also be washing . . .” she started then stopped in mid-sentence. “Because there are some things that a lady would like to do in private.”
“You ain’t no lady, you are a whore,” Regret said. “I paid five dollars to be with you, that means you ain’t got no privacy around me. I want to watch.”
“You didn’t pay for this,” the woman said, stepping behind the screen.
“I said I aim to watch!” Regret said angrily, and getting out of bed, he padded naked over to the dressing screen, then knocked it down.
The girl let out a short shout of fear, then cringed, frightened that he was about to hit her.
“I ain’t goin’ to hurt you none,” Regret said. “I told you, all I want to do is watch. Now, you go on with your— ablutions.”
The girl, cringing silently in fear and embarrassment, dipped the cloth in the water and continued to wash herself. There was a loud knock on the door.
“Mabel, is everything all right in there?” Madame Mouchette called.
“Don’t you be worryin’ none about Mabel,” Regret called back. “Me ’n her is gettin’ along just fine.”
“Mabel?” Madame Mouchette called again.
Regret walked over and jerked open the door. He saw the woman he had conducted the business with last night, the madam of the whorehouse.
“Get on with you now,” Regret said. “I told you, there’s no need for you to be worryin’ none.”
“You are naked,” Madame Mouchette said. “You should have dressed before you opened the door.”
“You tellin’ me a woman what runs a whorehouse ain’t never seen a naked man before?” Regret asked.
“I want to see Mabel.”
“I tole you, there ain’t no need for you to be worryin’ about Mabel.”
“I want Mabel to tell me that,” Madame Mouchette insisted.
“Tell her ever’thing’s all right,” Regret called back over his shoulder.
“I’m fine, Madame Mouchette,” Mabel said. “Really, it’s like he said. Ever’thing is fine.”
“I thought I heard you call out,” Madame Mouchette said.
“It’s nothing,” Mabel said. “I knocked over the pitcher and spilled water on me. That’s all.”
“All right,” Madame Mouchette replied. The tone of her voice indicated that she didn’t quite believe what Mabel was telling her, but neither did she want to challenge it any further. “You call me if you need me,” she added, and again, the tone of her voice was in direct opposition to the words themselves.
“Yes, ma’am, I will,” Mabel replied.
“You satisfied?” Regret asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, get on back to doin’ whatever you was doin’, and let us be. I got to get ready for the big celebration today.” Regret smiled broadly. “I’m one of them heroes the newspaper was talkin’ about.”
When Regret turned around, he saw that Mabel was no longer squatting down over the wash basin.
“What are you doin’?” Regret asked.
“I’m finished,” she said.
“You’re finished? That’s all there is to it?”
Mabel nodded.
“Hell, what was so damn private about that? You didn’t do nothin’ but splash a little water onto yourself.”
“Do you want me to bathe you?” she asked, smiling seductively at Regret, trying to get him back into a less belligerent mood.
“What?” Regret replied, as if surprised by the question. “No! Why the hell would I want that? I don’t need me a
