"How _right_ you are!"
"Phil--I'm caving in! I can't think of another thing to do. My guts are
full of ground glass. All I see--is Marcia--in my mind. I can't go on
this way--"
"Want to quit--going on that way?"
"How can I?" It sounded as if he didn't want to quit.
I said, "Listen, Paul, if you care to go to the cleaner, the dentist
and down a gantlet all at once--you can quit."
"What do you mean?"
"Want a look at the real score? Or do you prefer to carry the torch of
your slap-happy illusions forever?"