George motioned with his spoon again. “Look, Lennie. I want you to lookaround here. You can remember this place, can’t you? The ranch is about aquarter mile up that way. Just follow the river?”“Sure,” said Lennie. “I can remember this. Di’n’t I remember about notgonna say a word?”“’Course you did. Well, look. Lennie—if you jus’ happen to get in troublelike you always done before, I want you to come right here an’ hide in thebrush.”“Hide in the brush,” said Lennie slowly.“Hide in the brush till I come for you. Can you remember that?”“Sure I can, George. Hide in the brush till you come.”
George said, “S’pose he don’t want to talk?” Curley lashed his body around. “By Christ, he’s gotta talk when he’s spoke to. What the hell are you gettin’ into it for?” “We travel together,” said George coldly. “Oh, so it’s that way.” George was tense, and motionless. “Yeah, it’s that way.” Lennie was looking helplessly to George for instruction. “An’ you won’t let the big guy talk, is that it?” “He can talk if he wants to tell you anything.” He nodded slightly to Lennie. “We jus’ come in,” said Lennie softly. Curley stared levelly at him. “Well, nex’ time you answer when you’re spoke to.” He turned toward the door and walked out, and his elbows were still bent out a little.
George said quietly, “What the hell you yellin’ about?” Lennie got up on his knees. “You ain’t gonna leave me, are ya, George? I know you ain’t.” George came stiffly near and sat down beside him. “No.” “I knowed it,” Lennie cried. “You ain’t that kind.” George was silent. Lennie said, “George.” “Yeah?” “I done another bad thing.” “It don’t make no difference,” George said, and he fell silent again.