"So flattered you've been keeping track of my movements." Or lack thereof; she's not wrong in her assessment. The truth is, he'd gotten used to solitary life in the Sierra Madre. The thought of going out, of mingling with others, is exhausting. And dealing with the stupidity of people? Ugh. No one could pay him enough for that. Then, too, he doesn't exactly know anyone in the neighborhood. "As much as I'd love to hit the Saturday-night martini bars with my buddies, the luster of nightlife starts to fade after a couple hundred years."