"I don't believe you," Ethan Dawson said. "I haven't even started, and you're already predicting I'll fail?"
Quincy nodded. "That's right. Don't think setting this up is simple. I suggest you drop all these fancy, useless ideas. If you built a training room, at least someone would be interested."
"A training room is only suitable for men. What about the women?" Ethan Dawson did a quick mental calculation. His farm now had eleven women. 'They should have their own recreational activities besides just washing clothes and cooking.'
"Speaking of which, I discovered something." The smile vanished from Quincy's face. "Isn't there a man on your farm named Frank Fletcher?"
Ethan Dawson nodded. "What about him?"
"I think taking in those female refugees was a good deed, but before you pair them up with the men on your farm, couldn't you vet their character first? Or do you just not care about that sort of thing?"
Ethan Dawson was dumbfounded. "What do you mean? I don't understand."
