PADIE. You ain't takin' thimblefuls. You're just soakin' it up. You'll be gettin' snakes if you keep on. 'n then, what'll _I_ do? [_Resuming her air of weary indifference._] Not that I care so much what you do with yourself--or what becomes of me. Nothing matters. LON [_petulent and aggrieved_]. There you go, actin' abused. How 'bout _my_ rights 'n pleasures? Ain't got none, I s'pose. PADIE. Oh, shut up, you make me sick. [_Hank enters; a ruddy, vigorous, young man, strangely out of place among all this rubbish. He wears a barkeeper's apron and speaks cordially._] HANK. Howdyedo, folks! Howdye do! Well, this is a kinda rough lay-out fer you-all. Y'see the Stage is due here at five, and stops fer grub, then makes Hollow Eye by about nine, but here 'tis ... [_pulls out watch_] half an hour of midnight an' I s'pose you ain't et, yet, eh? [_Lights the glass lamp._] PADIE. Thanks. We've had sandwiches, but maybe my husband'd like something. LON [_significantly_]. Wet. [_Padie shrugs indifferently, and fixes her hair. As she turns toward Hank, the light for the first time falls full on his face. Padie stares fixedly at him, and half rises, with a little cry._] LON [_with a quick, startled glance at Hank, speaks to her in a sharp, threatening voice_]. Padie! Sit down! Are you gittin' plumb loco drivin' out so late in autymobiles? [_To Hank, apologetically._] You kinda flustered us, mister, cause you have a little the look a friend of ourn that died suddint. Mournful case. Pardner o'mine. No, you're not much like. He was tall, heavy-built and lighter complected. Must a been consid'ble older, too. PADIE [_almost in a whisper_]. No. LON. Older, I say. My wife's kinda wrought up by this here little spell of travelin'. HANK [_sympathetically_]. Oh, you're not used to it, eh? PADIE [_slowly and deliberately_]. We've been at it--[_draws out the word into a burden_] years. LON [_impatiently_]. That is, off'n on, m'dear. Only off'n on. PADIE [_monotonously_]. All the time. HANK [_trying to be a little jocose to break the oppressive atmosphere_]. Should think you might hanker after yer own nest, lady. PADIE [_rising rudely_]. Well, just keep your thoughts! HANK [_completely abashed_]. Yes, ma'am. Your room is just at the top of the landin'. I'll make ye a light. [_He hustles away upstairs to cover his embarrassment, taking the suitcases with him._] LON [_irritably_]. You're always tryin' to belittle me in public. Is that any way fer a wife to act? I wanta know. PADIE. What do you always lie so fer? LON [_with rising voice_]. That's my business. I'll do as I damn please. And don't you go too fer, crossin' me. I won't stand it. Some day I'll up, an-- PADIE [_contemptuously_]. Beat me. That's all that's left to _you_, wife-beater. [_Lon raises his hand as though to strike her, but lets it fall as Hank reappears on the landing._]