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"What'd he do in Weed?" Slim asked calmly. "You wouldn't tell?...No,'course you wouldn'." "What'd he do in Weed?" Slim asked again
Lennie twisted his neck and looked over his shoulder. "Huh? What you want George?" "I tol' you you couldn't bring that pup in here." "What pup, George? I ain't got no pup in here."
"Hello, Slim. Hello, George. Didn't neither of you play horseshoes?" "I don't like to play ever' night," said Slim. Candy went on "Either of you guys got a slug of whisky? I gotta gut ache."
"God awmighty, that dog stinks. Get him otta here, Candy! I don't know nothing that stinks as bad as an old dog. You gotta get him out." Candy rolled to the edge of the bunk. He reached over and patted the ancient dog, and he apologized, "I been around him so much I never notice how he stinks."
Curley said "Well, I didn't mean nothing, Slim. I just ast you." Slim said, "Well, you been askin' me too often. I'm gettin' God damn sick of it. If you can't look after your own God damn wife, what you expect me to do about it? You lay offa me,"
George was on his feet yelling, "Get him, Lennie. Don't let him do it." Lennie covered his face with huge paws and bleated with terror. He cried, "Make 'um stop George." Then Curley attacked his stomach and cut off his wind.
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