She held up Paul’s glass questioningly. He nodded.
“He’s a man as doesn’t care for anything, is Baxter Dawes,” said one.
“Pooh! is he?” said the barmaid. “He’s a loudmouthed one, he is, and they’re never much good. Give me a pleasant-spoken chap, if you want a devil!”
“Well, Paul, my lad,” said the friend, “you’ll have to take care of yourself now for a while.”