I don't have much of a choice. [ Wind or no, he's not giving up the search. They can't have gone that far, at least. It was more his coat that knocked them loose than the wind, itself. ]

You have no idea how hard it is to find a pair of two hundred year old glasses in the right prescription.

[ Then again. Arcade glances sideways at him again, and that rifle. ]

...Or maybe you do. You don't look much like a New Vegas native, but maybe it's some other corner of the Wasteland that you call home?