"I thought—"
"I said, get out."
"Look mister, the wife will start to worry. If the wife worries, she calls the company. The company makes a check and realizes I haven't called in. We got a two-way radio hook-up and you're supposed to call in on all fares. If the company sees I haven't called in, they start looking. Then where would you be?"
"Right here," Lucky said. "With you. And they'll never find you here. Any other questions? No? Then get out. That's right. Go inside the cabin. You ought to find some canned goods in there, and some sterno. Whip up supper for us, will you?"
Grumbling, the driver went up the split-log railed porch and into the cabin.
"It isn't locked?" Jeanne-Marie said.
"No lock on it. Nice here, isn't it?"
"Who cares if it's nice or not? You're a fugitive, you're running away, I'm a hostage. That's all that matters."
"Is it? You know, baby, there's something nice about being desperate. Something real fine. I don't even know your name. You don't know mine. Except Lucky. And you know something? I'm not even going to ask you your name. I can suddenly start admiring things, too. Like the scenery."
"You're talking in circles."