Without a word he sat down also, in a duplicate of their pose. No one spoke for several minutes.
Then, the shorter man said, casually, addressing his remarks to nobody in particular.
“They’s sure a lotta fresh pilgrims done hit this here town.”
The tall one echoed an equally casual chorus.
“They don’t teach no sort of manners to them down-East hobos, neither.”
De Launay stared impassively at the road in front of them.
“You’d think some of them’d sense it that a gent has got a right to be private when he wants to be.”
“It’s a —— of a town, nohow.”
“People even run around smellin’ of liquor—which is plumb illegal, Sucatash.”
“Which there are some that are that debased they even thrives on wood alcohol, Dave.”