“There’s no such thing,” the man said. “It’s all bad.” He grinned at the whisky. Then he took a big gulp of it. He had trouble getting it down and he tried to curse while he was coughing and began to choke. He put a stop to that with another gulp. While it went down he had his eyes shut tightly. Then he was grinning again and he said, “You’re lonesome too, aren’t you?”
“Sometimes,” Kerrigan said.
“I’m lonesome all the time.” The man stopped grinning and gazed at the whisky in the glass. “I’ve been everywhere, I’ve done everything, and I’ve known everybody. And what it amounts to, I’m lonesome.”
“Maybe you need a woman,” Kerrigan ventured.
The man didn’t even seem to hear it.
Then it was quiet for some moments and finally the man grinned again and said, “Who are you?”
Kerrigan decided to play it straight. He said, “I’m sorry, mister. I knew I’d never seen you before. It’s just that I wanted company. I’m Bill Kerrigan.”
“And I’m Newton Channing. Ever hear of Newton Channing? Does the name mean anything?”
Kerrigan shook his head.
Channing said, “You know, it means nothing to me, either.”