Thus he assuaged his ennui.
"Verman, come on in here," Penrod called. "I got sumpthing for
you to do you'll like awful well."
Verman halted, ceased to drum, and stared. His gaze was not fixed
particularly upon Penrod's nose, however, and neither now nor
later did he make any remark or gesture referring to this casual
eccentricity. He expected things like that upon Penrod or Sam
Williams. And as for Penrod himself, he had already forgotten
that his nose was painted.
"Come on, Verman!"
Verman continued to stare, not moving. He had received such
invitations before, and they had not always resulted to his
advantage. Within that stable things had happened to him the like
of which he was anxious to avoid in the future.
"Oh, come ahead, Verman!" Penrod urged, and, divining logic in
the reluctance confronting him, he added, "This ain't goin' to be
anything like last time, Verman. I got sumpthing just SPLENDUD
for you to do!"
Verman's expression hardened; he shook his head decisively.
"Mo," he said.
"Oh, COME on, Verman?" Penrod pleaded. "It isn't anything goin'
to HURT you, is it? I tell you it's sumpthing you'd give a good
deal to GET to do, if you knew what it is.
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