"Sorry we can't accommodate you, but the house is full."
It didn't look so, but then the lodgers might be out.
Andy thought for a moment he would go downstairs, and take a car back to the central part of the city, but he was afraid his action would seem strange, and he made no objection.
"I guess we'll get along together," said Robinson, in an easy tone.
Andy didn't think so, but he found it awkward to make objections.
"I will take a wash," he said, seeing that the pitcher on the washstand contained water.
"All right!" returned Robinson. "Just make yourself at home. I'll go downstairs. You'll find me there."
Left alone, Andy reproached himself for his too ready yielding to the plans of his companion. He wondered why he had done so.
"Mr. Crawford didn't ask me to be economical," he reflected. "He is willing I should pay ordinary prices at a hotel. I think I have been very foolish. However, I am in for it. It will serve as a lesson to me, which I will remember hereafter."
He looked out of the window. There was a lot behind the hotel—if it was a hotel—covered with ashes, tin cans, and other litter.