Ned grins, glad they're on the same page. He thinks of offering to buy Ginsberg one more drink before they go, but he decides against it. Too much of a good thing, and all that. So, instead, he reaches for his wallet to pay for the drinks, saying as he does, "My apartment's right above the shop, actually. So it isn't a far walk."

Probably a good thing, too, because once Ned's set the cash on the table and stood up, he wobbles, has to set a hand down to steady himself. He laughs at that, coming right after what Ginsberg said about knocking people over. He does feel swept off his feet - by the other man's lively energy, by the thrill of his own daring, by the fact that things seems to be going his way this evening. It's a rare feeling, and in some corner of his mind, it worries him. The other shoe is bound to drop, eventually.

"Is it because you're so good at selling stuff to people, that you don't like it when the tables are turned?"