"Well, what do you think?" he asked at last.
"Of what?"
"Of me. You've given me a good enough lookin' over to be sure you know me next time."
"I think you've got broad shoulders and slim hips, stranger. But we both know that don't make a man, don't we?"
Savage grinned, "Dead right, Scarlett, dead right."
She paused, "What are you called?"
"Savage."
"It fits."
"So I've been told."
"Plan to stay around, or just passing through, Savage?"
"Stayin'. That's if you've got accommodation?"
"I think I can accommodate you," she said, leaving him wondering if the double meaning had been accidental.
After a moment he went back to his shaving. He hadn't been too impressed with Catclaw at first glance, but it was starting to look more interesting. If he could just get some low-life train bandit to show his ugly face inside the next couple of days, he wouldn't have a complaint in the world . . .