“Well,” he said, after a moment's reflection, “I beg your pardon. But I couldn't help feelin' kind of uneasy. I—I ought to know better, I s'pose; but, with a young, good-lookin' girl landed unexpected right next to us, I—I—”
“How did you know she was good-looking? I didn't mention her looks.”
“No, you didn't, but—but . . . John Brown, I've been young myself, and I know that at your age most ANY girl's good-lookin'. There!”
He delivered this bit of wisdom with emphasis and a savage nod of the head. Brown had no answer ready, that is, no relevant answer.
“You go to bed and shut the door,” he repeated, turning to go.
“All right, I will. But don't you forget our agreement.”
“I have no intention of forgetting it.”
“What ARE you goin' to do?”
“Do? What do you mean?”
“I mean what are you goin' to do now that things down here's changed, and you and me ain't alone, same as we was?”