He went out, followed by Slim and Friar. The two slabs swung to behind them. 'What did he mean by my present state?' Dave's voice was pitched high and his cigarette glowed red. 'What did he mean, man? Does he think I'm scared? I didn't come here because I was scared. Indeed I didn't. I came here because' — he hesitated and trod out his cigarette — 'because I didn't trust Lizzie Clynt. Women are the devil, you know. I've no use for them, but the one — but you've got to trust them sometimes now, haven't you? But when she showed me that paper.' He opened his gold cigarette case. It was empty. 'Have you got a cigarette, man?'
'No,' I said. 'Perhaps there are some in the food cases there.' I searched in the case I had opened and found a carton of cigarettes. 'Here you are,' I said, and tossed him over a packet of twenty.
He lit one immediately. The flame of the match shook in his hand. He got up then and pushed open the slabs of the entrance. 'I hate being shut up, don't you? I like to be able to hear what's going on outside. We'd hear the gig coming down now. wouldn't we?'
'Yes,' I said.
He was crossing towards the bed again when a muffled roar came from the depths of the mine. The ground shook slightly. Dave swung round. 'What was that?' he cried.
'Blasting,' I said. 'We're blowing in one of the galleries.'
He went quickly over to the bed and sat down as though his knees ached. A blast of air swept dust in from the gallery outside. 'What are you blasting for? Manack isn't opening up the mine, is he?'
'Just a few structural alterations,' I said.
He didn't pursue the matter. He wasn't interested. That was outside himself and he was only interested in himself. He wanted to justify his presence at Wheal Garth. He wanted to prove — to himself most of all — that he wasn't frightened. 'You know when I left you?' he said. 'Up at the Ding Dong mine?'
'Yes.'