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The writer found Auguste's home by chance. It was while driving along this apparently deserted trail that she noted an old Negro woman standing in the middle of the trail, as though waiting for someone. Asked where the road led, the woman's face lighted up and she said:

"Just down yonder, at Fred's place."
When asked where she herself lived, she replied:
"With Mr. Mollie, a Frenchman. He is jes' like all Frenchmen,
you can't tell him anything, and if he does anything wrong, he
says 'Clarissa done it.'"

All the while she was talking she was using her hands. She seemed anxious to talk, and when asked if she thought Mr. Mollie would give any information about his life, she eagerly agreed that he would, but doubted that I could understand him. However as she promised to act as interpreter, I went along.

In a few minutes a boy on a bicycle rode up the road and
gave Clarissa a Mobile Press Register and she explained it was
for Mr. Mollie.

Leaving the car at one side of the trail and crossing a long narrow lane across a dry branch that was covered over with a makeshift bridge and then walking up a little hill, we approached a clearing, in the middle of which stood the home of Auguste Mollie.

While walking up to Auguste's house Clarissa volunteered information as to why she was living at Mr. Mollie's home, saying

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