“You want a job?” Martin went on melodramatically. “You want to sell your soul to the highest bidder?”
“Jez if that’s all you had to sell....” moaned Roy.
“It’s my morning sleep that worries me.... Still it is lousy putting over your personality and all that stuff. It’s not your ability to do the work it’s your personality.”
“Prostitutes are the only honest ...”
“But good Lord a prostitute sells her personality.”
“She only rents it.”
“But Roy is bored.... You are all bored.... I’m boring you all.”
“We’re having the time of our lives,” insisted Alice. “Now Martin we wouldn’t be sitting here if we were bored,
would we?... I wish Jimmy would tell us where he expected to go on his mysterious travels.”
“No, you are saying to yourselves what a bore he is, what use is he to society? He has no money, he has no pretty wife, no good conversation, no tips on the stockmarket. He’s a useless fardel on society.... The artist is a fardel.”