So Sam has gone back to the early American school.

This means that he's getting down to his last five-dollar bill, and I want to tell you that I'm not far from it myself.

I'd have been dead broke if I hadn't sold two Fatimas.

One in pink pants and the other a flying angel in summer clothes to fit an alcove in an up-town barroom over the cigar-stand.
"But my money isn't Sam's money," he went on without pausing, "and Sam won't touch a penny of it.

Never does unless I fool him on the sly.