And while she went through the barn, the halter chains rattled, and some horses snorted and some stamped their feet.
Crooks seemed to come slowly out of the layers of protection he had put on.
“Was that the truth what you said about the guys come back?” he asked.
“Sure. I heard ’em.” “Well, I didn’t hear nothing.”
“The gate banged,” Candy said, and he went on, “Jesus Christ, Curley’s wife can move quiet. I guess she had a lot of practice, though.”
Crooks avoided the whole subject now. “Maybe you guys better go,” he said.
“I ain’t sure I want you in here no more. A colored man got to have some rights even if he don’t like ’em.”
Candy said, “That bitch didn’t ought to of said that to you.”
“It wasn’t nothing,” Crooks said dully. “You guys comin’ in an’ settin’ made me forget. What she says is true.”
The horses snorted out in the barn and the chains rang and a voice called, “Lennie. Oh, Lennie. You in the barn?”
“It’s George,” Lennie cried. And he answered, “Here, George. I’m right in here.”
In a second George stood framed in the door, and he looked disapprovingly about.
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