“Jackson and what’s-his-name.”
“I don’t wonder,” said Tommie, “it has been going a long time. Well, it doesn’t matter to me, I’ve been careful and put by. I’ve thirty thousand dollars laid by with Aunt Coulthurst. She lives in Montgomery Street and I’m tired of the movies anyway. I want real life and I’m going to get it.”
“How?” asked Hank.
“Ranch.”
“Where?”
“Where I was born. Texas. There’s air there, and life.”
“Sure,” said Hank.
“I’ll buy a ranch and run it. It’s a better life than being thrown out of windows for fools to look at or dropping from aëroplanes.”
“Sure,” said Hank.
“Well,” said Tommie, taking her seat for a moment on a bunk side and speaking as if in a reverie, “I suppose this is the end of our trip. It’s been queer, and we’ve had tight shaves but I wouldn’t have missed it for earths. It’s taught me more than I ever knew and it’s made me have no fear in striking out for myself in life. I was never afraid of things, but I used to be frightened of life and what was to come the day after next, and I guess that’s clean gone.”