Cy frustration has played out. He thinks they aren't taking him seriously, and says he's fucking done, turning over his peach bowl and slamming it down. Al gets back to business, saying that if neither Wolcott or Utter are "pursuing remedies," that leaves Bullock to make a decision on whether or not anyone gets in trouble. Bullock indicates with a clench that no arrests will be made, and Al adjourns the meeting.
As they break up, Doc quietly tells Charlie that Wolcott wants to talk to him. Charlie wants to know why, and Doc explains about Wild Bill's letter. Cy overhears this, and looks worried, following after Doc, asking what it's about. He's stressed, but no soul in camp right now is more stressed than that of the greasy little lackey, E.B. Farnum, observing this gathering from the front door of his hotel across the street.
Seeing the VIPs exiting the Gem, he rants to himself: "The bald contempt of it! Why not come out five abreast, cavorting...taunting...'E.B. was left out! E.B was left out!'" As much as I'd like the camera to now cut to the thoroughfare and show Bullock and Cy cavorting, E.B. continues, hurt and angry, reminding himself that "public service was never my primary career." He sees through the doors that "two come this way," and rushes around back behind his desk to get in position. Cy is telling Bullock as they enter the hotel that he hopes Bullock does not plan to worry any further over the whole Charlie/Wolcott thing. "I don't," Bullock clenches, going directly for the stairs toward Mrs. G's room. E.B. smarms on and on about how he hopes their "meeting of worthies" was a good one. Cy blows him off with a "thanks," watching Bullock climb the stairway (to heaven). E.B. can't keep his mouth shut, as usual, and calls out to the sheriff, who is already at Mrs. G's door, that he thinks she's in. He then stage-whispers to Cy that the child is also in, "which may confound his intentions." Here, he makes the International Symbol for intercourse, learned by all young boys in fifth grade. Even Cy, purveyor of smut, can barely conceal his E.B.-related disdain.
Mrs. G opens her door and receives quite a surprise. She freezes for a moment before inviting Bullock in. He apologizes for calling unannounced. They stumble around a little awkwardly, and sit. He asks her how she's feeling, and she tells him she's well, as she hopes are he and his family. He says they are all very well. Yes, well. We're all well. Well. It's a deep subject. Let's get on with it.
She can't help but drop this jewel: "I feel a little better lately...in the afternoons...than in the morning." Lame. "Morning sickness" can strike at any hour of the day. Anyway, he accepts this anvil over the head, and answers with an "Ah." The conversation turns to the bank deal she proposed to Sol. Bullock throws his support behind it, even though no one asked. He over-compliments her, and kind of lays it on thick, talking about what a great idea it is, and how she's great for doing it with her capital and how supportive of the camp she is, yadda, et cetera. She quietly thanks him until he blurts out an unrelated question: "Would it be better for you if I left?" Mrs. G says they seem to be conversing all right, wondering why he would want to leave since he just arrived. "I mean," he clarifies, "the camp." Mrs. G: "Because I'm unwell in the mornings?" He clenches, a little, and asks again if it would be easier for her. She wonders how his leaving would make any difference at all. He explains that he wonders if her seeing her in the camp, "more or less, daily," might be painful for her. Mrs. G takes the high road, here, after a deep breath. She tells him that if he thinks leaving the camp and uprooting his family would be the right decision, she won't judge him, but please, "do not ask me to make [the decision] for you." Good point, Mrs. G.