"I won't pay your fare," said Deaves.
Evan laughed. "I'll pay the fares," he said. To himself he thought: "It's not often one has a chance of standing treat to a millionaire."
Deaves did allow Evan to pay the fares, and indeed seemed quite pleased as if he had got the better of him in a deal. But something about Evan disconcerted him. He continued to glance at him sideways out of his restless, furtive little grey eyes. Finally he said:
"I'm not going to give you anything for coming with me."
"Don't expect it," said Evan.
"What are you coming for then?" Deaves demanded.
Evan laughed in an annoyed way. "Well, now that you put it to me, I don't exactly know. I suppose I owe it to myself not to let an old man fall down in the street."
Deaves thought over this quite a long while. Along with his shrewdness there was something childish in the old man. "You're a good boy!" he announced at last.
Evan appreciated that this was an immense concession. "Much obliged," he said dryly.
"Just the same, you needn't think you're going to get anything out of me," the old man quickly added.