"It's you makes me blue, Charley."
"Now, now; just don't worry that big, nifty head of yours about me."
"The—the morning papers and all. I—I just hate to see you going so to—to the dogs, Charley—a—fellow like you—with brains."
"I'm a bad egg, girl, and what you going to do about it? I was raised like one, and I'll die like one."
"You ain't a bad egg. You just never had a chance. You been killed with coin."
"Killed with coin! Why, Loo, do you know, I haven't had to ask my old man for a cent since my poor old granny died five years ago and left me a world of money? While he's been piling it up like the Rocky Mountains I've been getting down to rock-bottom. What would you say, sweetness, if I told you I was down to my last few thousands? Time to touch my old man, eh?"
He drank off his first glass with a quaff, laughing and waving it empty before her face to give off its perfume.
"My old man is going to wake up in a minute and find me on his checking-account again. Charley boy better be making connections with headquarters or he won't find himself such a hit with the niftiest doll in town, eh?"
"Charley, you—you haven't run through those thousands and thousands and thousands the papers said you got from your granny that time?"
"It was slippery, hon; somebody buttered it."