“Easy to say that.”
“Have you told her?”
“Lord, no.”
“Well, go down and tell her and get it over, same as sea sickness.”
“Bud, I could no more tell her than I could walk into a blazing fiery furnace like those chaps in the Scriptures.”
“Why?”
“Because, Bud—well, there’s two reasons. First of all she’d laugh at me, maybe.”
“She would, sure.”
“And then—there’s a girl—”