"You can go about with me?"
"If you'll wait."
"Good! Where do you keep your matches?"
"Matches are luxuries. Tear up The Times!"
"Corri's economy! Throw me The Times, then!"
Kincaid lit his cigar to his satisfaction, and stretched his long legs before the fire. Both men puffed placidly.
"Well," said Corri, "and how's the hospital? How do you like it?"
"My mother doesn't like it; she finds it so lonely at home by herself. I thought she'd get used to it in a couple of months—I go round to her as often as I can—but she complains as much as she did at the beginning. She's taken up the original idea again, and of course it is dull for her. And she's not strong, either."
"No, I know."
"Tell her I'm going to be a successful man by-and-by, Wally, and cheer her up. It enlivens her to believe it."