You’ll have to bear with me, Miss Mayella, I’m getting along and can’t remember as well as I used to.
I might ask you things you’ve already said before, but you’ll give me an answer, won’t you? Good.”
I could see nothing in Mayella’s expression to justify Atticus’s assumption that he had secured her wholehearted cooperation.
She was looking at him furiously. “Won’t answer a word you say long as you keep on mockin’ me,” she said.
“Ma’am?” asked Atticus, startled. “Long’s you keep on makin’ fun o’me.”
Judge Taylor said, “Mr. Finch is not making fun of you. What’s the matter with you?”
Mayella looked from under lowered eyelids at Atticus, but she said to the judge:
“Long’s he keeps on callin’ me ma’am an sayin’ Miss Mayella. I don’t hafta take his sass, I ain’t called upon to take it.”
Atticus resumed his stroll to the windows and let Judge Taylor handle this one.
Judge Taylor was not the kind of figure that ever evoked pity, but I did feel a pang for him as he tried to explain.
“That’s just Mr. Finch’s way,” he told Mayella. “We’ve done business in this court for years and years,
and Mr. Finch is always courteous to everybody. He’s not trying to mock you, he’s trying to be polite. That’s just his way.”
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