“We-ell, maybe.”
“I tell you,” Gergue said again. “You go on home and fix up something. Best thing to do.”
“I want to see Sam.”
“I’ll see him.”
Wint was more than half persuaded, before Peter spoke to him. He had thought of going home; he was tired. He wanted to sleep. He said: “We-ell, all right.”
“That’s the talk,” said Peter. “You go along.”
“So long, then.”
“Fix you up a good one,” Gergue advised him again. “Fix it up, and learn it, and all. You’ll maybe be interrupted, you know.”
“If there’s any one there to interrupt,” Wint said, in a tone of doubt; and Gergue cackled.
“Lord, there’ll be some folks there. Don’t you worry about that. You go home and fix you up a speech. You’ll have a crowd.”