Lennie tried to disengage his ear. “I never done nothing, George.”
“No, you never. But when she was standin’ in the doorway showin’ her legs, you wasn’t lookin’ the other way, neither.”
“I never meant no harm, George. Honest I never.” “Well, you keep away from her, ’cause she’s a rattrap if I ever seen one.”
“You let Curley take the rap. He let himself in for it. Glove fulla vaseline,” George said disgustedly.
“An’ I bet he’s eatin’ raw eggs and writin’ to the patent medicine houses.”
Lennie cried out suddenly—“I don’ like this place, George. This ain’t no good place. I wanna get outa here.”
“We gotta keep it till we get a stake. We can’t help it, Lennie. We’ll get out jus’ as soon as we can. I don’t like it no better than you do.”
He went back to the table and set out a new solitaire hand. “No, I don’t like it,” he said.
“For two bits I’d shove out of here. If we can get jus’ a few dollars in the poke we’ll shove off and go up the American River and pan gold.”
“We can make maybe a couple of dollars a day there, and we might hit a pocket.”
Lennie leaned eagerly toward him. “Le’s go, George. Le’s get outta here. It’s mean here.”
“We gotta stay,” George said shortly. “Shut up now. The guys’ll be cumin’ in.”
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