"The big town."
"What are you going to do when you get there?"
The man's dissipation-dulled eyes searched the candid face of the questioner scarcely ten years his junior, then he looked to Gerard with a confused and reluctant unease, as he might have looked had Corrie been a young girl whose innocence he feared to offend.
"Aw, lots of things," he evaded, with a short, embarrassed laugh. "You don't want to hear me talk, mister. I'll get there, now I'm fed up."
"Do you want me to find work for you around here? I can."
"My jobs are a different kind, mister. I couldn't stay in yours."
Corrie brought his hand from his pocket.
"All right, as you like. Take this for good luck and we'll call ourselves even. Square, is it?"
The man took the bill awkwardly, his embarrassment deepened.
"You're square, sure," he signified.