'What do you want ?' 'We are poor, widow, we are poor,' he retorted, stretching out his right hand, and rubbing his thumb upon its palm.
'Poor!' she cried.

'And what am I ?' 'Comparisons are odious,' said the blind man.

'I don't know, I don't care.

I say that we are poor.

My friend's circumstances are indifferent, and so are mine.