"He's sort of walkin' delegate over the whole
bloomin' family. A god with two legs. The OTHERS? Why, we killed
them. But Upi and his heathen wouldn't see anything happen to the
old man when they found I was going to take the girl. That's why
he's alive up there in the cabin now. Lord, what a mess you're
heading into, Raine! And I'm wondering, after you kill me, and
they kill you, WHO'LL HAVE THE GIRL? There's a half-breed in the
tribe an' she'll probably go to him. The heathen themselves don't
give a flip for women, you know. So it's certain to be the half-
breed."
He surged on ahead, cracking his whip, and crying out to the dogs.
Philip believed that in those few moments he had spoken much that
was truth. He had, without hesitation and of his own volition,
confessed the murder of the companions of Celie's father, and he
had explained in a reasonable way why Armin himself had been
spared. These facts alone increased his apprehension. Unless Blake
was utterly confident of the final outcome he would not so openly
expose himself.
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