He scratched his upper lip reflectively. He was an odd one, especially for a young man. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. ” Drummond shook his head in melancholy fashion. The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. "I'll have my cot in here," said Spurlock to Ruth, "where this table is.
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