The old lady nodded approvingly, as if this were something to his credit.
"Got any vicious habits?"
Bean weakly began an answer intended to be facetious, and yet leave much to be inferred regarding his habits. But the Demon would have none of this.
"Smoke?"
"No!"
"Drink?"
"No!" He desperately wondered if she would know where to stop.
"How's your health? Ever been sick much?"
"I can't remember. I had lumbago when I was seven."
"Humph! Gamble, play cards, bet on races, go around raising cain with a lot of young devils at night?"
"No, I don't," said Bean, with a hint of sullen defiance. He wanted to add: "And I don't go round voting and breaking windows, either," but he was not equal to this.
"Well, I don't know" She deliberated, adjusting one of her many puffs of gray hair, and gazing dreamily at a thread of smoke that ascended from her cigarette. She seemed to be wondering whether or not she ought to let him off this time. "Well, I don't know. It looks to me as if you were too good to be true."
She rose and tossed her cigarette out of the window. He thought he was freed, but at the door she turned suddenly upon him once more.
