“We could always start that pottery business I was telling you about, back in California.”
“That’s a thought.”
“Of course there’re a lot of other things we could do.”
“I suppose it’s all a matter of picking the right one.”
They looked at the gray water and thought of new things, of works not yet begun. Pensively Holton leaned out over the railing and spat. Trebling, interested, did the same. For several moments they were in serious contest to determine who could spit the farthest. Holton won, although Trebling claimed he had been helped by a gust of wind.
Then they walked about the decks of the transport. Soldiers were everywhere. They sat in groups on the covered hatches, they leaned over the railing to look at the sea and, also, to be sick.
“I guess all these people are going to be trying the same thing,” said Holton suddenly.
“Try what? Starting a business?”
Sure.
“I don’t think so.”