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 A chuckle sounded from Archdale's office.

Immediately the light of victory, carefully veiled, but bright, shone in Porgy's eyes. He reached behind him and tweaked the goat by the ear. The dejected animal mistook the signal, and started forward.

"No, no, bubber," whispered Porgy. "Ain't yuh hear de Boss laugh? When nigger mek de buckra laugh, den he know he done won. Dis wey we goin' spen' we libe. You watch."

The change in Porgy, which Peter had been the first to notice, was now apparent to all who knew him. The defensive barrier of reserve that he had built about his life was down. The long hours when he used to sit fixed and tense, with the look of introspection upon his face, were gone. Even the most skeptical of the women were beginning to admit that Bess was making him a good mate. Not that they mingled freely with the other residents of the court. On the contrary, they seemed strangely sufficient unto themselves in the midst of the intensely gregarious life that was going on about them. Porgy's earnings were adequate to their modest needs, and Bess was always up and out