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"
Be
quiet
,
they
’
ll
hear
you
,
"
said
Miss
Maudie
.
"
Have
you
ever
thought
of
it
this
way
,
Alexandra
?
Whether
Maycomb
knows
it
or
not
,
we
’
re
paying
the
highest
tribute
we
can
pay
a
man
.
We
trust
him
to
do
right
.
It
’
s
that
simple
.
"
"
Who
?
"
Aunt
Alexandra
never
knew
she
was
echoing
her
twelve
-
year
-
old
nephew
.
"
The
handful
of
people
in
this
town
who
say
that
fair
play
is
not
marked
White
Only
;
the
handful
of
people
who
say
a
fair
trial
is
for
everybody
,
not
just
us
;
the
handful
of
people
with
enough
humility
to
think
,
when
they
look
at
a
Negro
,
there
but
for
the
Lord
’
s
kindness
am
l
.
"
Miss
Maudie
’
s
old
crispness
was
returning
:
"
The
handful
of
people
in
this
town
with
background
,
that
’
s
who
they
are
.
"
Had
I
been
attentive
,
I
would
have
had
another
scrap
to
add
to
Jem
’
s
definition
of
background
,
but
I
found
myself
shaking
and
couldn
’
t
stop
.
I
had
seen
Enfield
Prison
Farm
,
and
Atticus
had
pointed
out
the
exercise
yard
to
me
.
It
was
the
size
of
a
football
field
.
"
Stop
that
shaking
,
"
commanded
Miss
Maudie
,
and
I
stopped
.
"
Get
up
,
Alexandra
,
we
’
ve
left
‘
em
long
enough
.
"
Aunt
Alexandra
rose
and
smoothed
the
various
whalebone
ridges
along
her
.
She
took
her
handkerchief
from
her
belt
and
wiped
her
nose
.
She
patted
her
hair
and
said
,
"
Do
I
show
it
?
"
"
Not
a
sign
,
"
said
Miss
Maudie
.
"
Are
you
together
again
,
Jean
Louise
?
"
"
Yes
ma
’
am
.
"
"
Then
let
’
s
join
the
ladies
,
"
she
said
grimly
Their
voices
swelled
when
Miss
Maudie
opened
the
door
to
the
diningroom
.
Aunt
Alexandra
was
ahead
of
me
,
and
I
saw
her
head
go
up
as
she
went
through
the
door
.
