"You seem all right," he said.
"I'm all right."
"I still think we could use that book—and I hope that we'll get it."
"Thanks."
"Need anything?"
He meant medicine. I said I didn't.
We both waved and a cab stopped.
He thanked me rather formally for dinner.
"So long, boy," he said, then. "And don't give up hope."
"I've got plenty of hope—it just isn't immediate, like the fiscal prospects of department stores."