“Settling for that painting, eh?”
“Because if you are, I'll go with you,” pursued Hawkins, falling into step beside me and ignoring my remarks.
I told Hawkins that I should be tickled to death to have his company, which was a lie and intended for biting sarcasm; but Hawkins took it in good faith and was pleased.
“I tell you, Griggs,” he informed me, “there's nothing like this early summer air to fill a man's lungs.”
“Unless it's cash to fill his pockets.”
“Eh? Cash?” said the inventor. “That reminds me. I must spend some this afternoon.”
“Indeed! Going to settle another damage suit?”
“I intend to order coal,” replied Hawkins frigidly.
He seemed disinclined to address me further; and I had no particular yearning to hear his voice. We walked on in silence until within a few blocks of home.
Then Hawkins paused at one of the cross-streets.