The interjection diverted Tracey's train of thought to an inconsiderable siding. "I only called you Mr. Duncan," he said, aggrieved, "'cause you're my boss."
"That's a poor excuse, Tracey. You call Mr. Graham 'Sam,' and he's likewise your boss."
"I know. But it's diff'runt."
"I don't see it. Even Nats have their place in the cosmic system, Tracey."
"I dunno what that is, but you ain't like Sam."
"The loss is mine, Tracey. Proceed."
"But, Mr. Duncan..."
"I beg of you, speak to me as to a friend."
Tracey struggled perceptibly. The words, when they came, were blurted. "Ah... I was only thinkin' 'bout Angie."
"Do you ever think about anything else?"