He had chosen a part detestable to him but necessary to his business.

He must be a "gabber" for the nonce, a free talker, a chatterer, who would cover up all pauses.
"Kind of strange to ride into a dark town like this," he began, "but I could tell you a story about--" "Oh, Steve," called the voice of Sally from the kitchen.
He rose and nodded to Bard.
"'Scuse me, I'll be back in a minute." "Thanks," answered the other, with a somewhat grim emphasis.
In the kitchen Sally spoke without prelude.

"What deviltry are you up to now, Steve ?" "Me ?" he repeated with eyes widened by innocence.

"What d'you mean, Sally ?" "Don't four-flush me, Steve." "Is eating in your place deviltry ?" "Am I blind ?" she answered hotly.

"Have I got spring-halt, maybe?
You're too polite, Steve; I can always tell when you're on the way to a little bell of your own making, by the way you get sort of kind and warmed up.
What is it now ?" "Kiss me, Sally, and I'll tell you why I came to town." She said with a touch of colour: "I'll see you--" and then changing quickly, she slipped inside his ready arms with a smile and tilted up her face.
"Now what is it, Steve ?" "This," he answered.
"What d'you mean ?" "You know me, Sally.