Chapter 6

He reached in his side pocket and brought out Carlson’s Luger; he snapped off the safety, and the hand and gun lay on the ground behind Lennie’s back.

Now what the hell ya suppose is eatin’ them two guys?

And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie’s head. The hand shook violently, but his face set and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger.

"Because I got you an’—" "An’ I got you. We got each other, that’s what, that gives a hoot in hell about us," Lennie cried in triumph.

Guys like us got no fambly. They make a little stake an’ then they blow it in. They ain’t got nobody in the worl’ that gives a hoot in hell about ’em—

No, Lennie. I ain’t mad. I never been mad, an’ I ain’t now. That’s a thing I want ya to know.

Jesus Christ, Lennie! You can’t remember nothing that happens, but you remember ever’ word I say.

Ever’body gonna be nice to you. Ain’t gonna be no more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from ’em.

All the time he coulda had such a good time if it wasn’t for you. He woulda took his pay an’ raised hell in a whore house, and he coulda set in a pool room an’ played snooker. But he got to take care of you.

Look acrost the river, Lennie, an’ I’ll tell you so you can almost see it.