You had it when you come up outa the heap.

You licked the preacher afterwards, I think." Sandy was reading a ragged-backed novel while he smoked; his interest in Ford and Ford's battered countenance was plainly perfunctory.
Outside, the rain fell aslant in the wind and drummed dismally upon the little window beside Sandy.

It beat upon the door and trickled underneath in a thin rivulet to a shallow puddle, formed where the floor was sunken.

A dank warmth and the smell of wet wood heating to the blazing point pervaded the room and mingled with the coarse aroma of cheap, warmed-over coffee.
"Sandy!" "Hunh ?" "Did anybody get married last night ?" The leash of forgetfulness was snapping, strand by strand.

Troubled remembrance peered out from behind the philosophic calm in Ford's eyes.
"Unh-hunh." Sandy turned a leaf and at the same time flicked the ashes from his cigarette with a mechanical finger movement.