“Sit down, Gordy,” he suggested, “and tell me all about what you’ve been doing and what you’re doing now and everything.”
Gordon collapsed unexpectedly upon the bed; lay there inert and spiritless. His mouth, which habitually dropped a little open when his face was in repose, became suddenly helpless and pathetic.
“What’s the matter?” asked Dean quickly.
“Oh, God!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Every God damn thing in the world,” he said miserably. “I’ve absolutely gone to pieces, Phil. I’m all in.”
“Huh?”
“I’m all in.” His voice was shaking.
Dean scrutinized him more closely with appraising blue eyes.
“You certainly look all shot.”