"Hum up, dar!" Luster flapped the lines on the horse's broad hips. With subterranean rumblings Queenie [illegible]
down the drive. Dilsey stood watching them until they passed through the gate, into the street.
<Ben quit whimpering. He sat on the back seat, holding the flower, his gaze sweet and serene again. Ahead of him
Luster sat in an attitude of swagger [illegible] out of all proportion to the sedate clopping of Queenie's feet and the basso
profundo of her internal accompaniment. Motor cars past them, then they approached the square, where the Confederate
soldier gazed from [illegible] with his empty eyes beneath his marble hand.
"Dar Mr Jason's car," Luster said, swinging to the left. When they did so Ben sat for an instant in utter hiatus
Then he bellowed. Bellow on bellow, his voice mounted, <<[illegible] without>> with scarce interval for breath. Luster
gave him a rolling [illegible] glance, "Gret God," he said "Hush! Hush! Gret God,
[margin: Git up, Queenie!"]
<<what I done now?">> He caught up the
lines and up [illegible] for the blow when Jason came leaping across the square and onto the step.
With a backhand blow he hurled Luster aside and took the lines and sawed Queenie around and [illegible]
and cut her on the hips with the ends of the reins. Cut her again and again into a gallop and headed
her back to the right side of the square. Then he struck Luster on the head with his hand.
"Don't you know any better than to take her around to to the left?" he said. Then he lent back and struck Ben,
breaking the flower again. "Shut up!" he said. "Shut up!" He jumped down. "Get him to hell back home again.
get him right on."
When Jason struck him Ben opened his eyes. He was just [filling his lungs?] again, when suddenly he stopped, <<The broken
flower drooping over his fist.>> "Now look what you done," Luster said. "Gret God. Hum up, dar." Queenie lurched into
motion again and they went on, to the right now, <<and post and tree, cornice and facade and [balcony?] flowing smoothly again,
each in its ordered place.>> with
[margin: the broken flower drooping over his fist]
Ben clutching his broken flower and his eyes empty and serene again, with post
and tree, [balcony?] and cornice and face flowing [illegible] once more, each in its ordered place.>