“What gives you such a belly-ache for love, Jim?” said Lilly, “or for being loved? Why do you want so badly to be loved?”
“Because I like it, damn you,” barked Jim. “Because I'm in need of it.”
None of them quite knew whether they ought to take it as a joke. It was just a bit too real to be quite pleasant.
“Why are you such a baby?” said Lilly. “There you are, six foot in length, have been a cavalry officer and fought in two wars, and you spend your time crying for somebody to love you. You're a comic.”
“Am I though?” said Jim. “I'm losing life. I'm getting thin.”
“You don't look as if you were losing life,” said Lilly.
“Don't I? I am, though. I'm dying.”
“What of? Lack of life?”
“That's about it, my young cock. Life's leaving me.”
“Better sing Tosti's Farewell to it.”