I never thought of it again since I got the broker's note till this minute.

I have been thinking all day about my heart, which is uneasy, and about what will happen to Mary when I am gone.

What's the good of this dirty money to a dying man?
I'd give it all to have my wife and the boy I lost back for a year or two; yes, I would go into a shop again and sell sugar like my grandfather, and live on the profits from the till and the counter.

There's Mary calling.

We must tell a fib, we must say that we thought she was to come to fetch us; don't you forget.