"Not in this shape. What do you suppose Nell would think?"
"I don't know and I don't care. I'm sick. That's all."
"Where have you been—for the last three years?"
"A whole lot you care. Been? I have been everywhere from heaven to hell—the whole route. I'm in hell just now."
"You look it. Will, what can I do for you? You want to quit the booze and straighten up. You're killing yourself."
"Maybe I don't know it! Say, Jack, I want some dough. I'm broke."
"All right. How much?"
"A couple of hundred—for a starter."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"What do you suppose? Not going to eat it."