“Oh, yes,” William Campbell said, speaking directly against the sheet and feeling the texture with his lips.
“You’re a fool,” Mr. Turner said. He turned off the electric light. The electric light had been burning all night. It was now ten o’clock in the morning. “You’re a drunken fool. When did you get into this town?”
“I got into this town last night,” William Campbell said, speaking against the sheet. He found he liked to talk through a sheet. “Did you ever talk through a sheet?”
“Don’t try to be funny. You aren’t funny.”
“I’m not being funny. I’m just talking through a sheet.”
“You’re talking through a sheet all right.”
“You can go now, Mr. Turner,” Campbell said. “I don’t work for you any more.”
“You know that anyway.”
“I know a lot,” William Campbell said. He pulled down the sheet and looked at Mr. Turner. “I know enough so I don’t mind looking at you at all. Do you want to hear what I know?”
“No.”