"Yes."
"How's my boy?"
"I'm—all right."
"Listen, Jo. The crowd's coming over tonight. I've fixed up a little poker game for you. Just eight of us."
"I can't come tonight, Gert."
"Can't! Why not?"
"I'm not feeling so good."
"You just said you were all right."
"I am all right. Just kind of tired."
The voice took on a cooing note. "Is my Joey tired? Then he shall be all comfy on the sofa, and he doesn't need to play if he don't want to. No, sir."