Arthur smiled. The nun was right, helping people, even if it was as small as this, was something that made him happy. "Oh, don't worry about me. I have some cigarettes they're just the cheap shit. The good ones were in my satchel and I gave that to somebody." With his guns, except for the one revolver. "But the cheap shit will do me just fine, when I get better." Because now there was hope. John had got away. So did he, turned out.
"I'm much obliged to you John. For helping me find this place, and for the offer of future help. I can't say I'd be any better off if I'd had to go it alone. Now I am." He hefted the saddle onto a low table. He'd clean this place later. After he'd had a long bath, after he'd figured how to do that of course. "Now go on, get out of here before I start coughing again. I don't want to get you sick."