Maybe it's just the whisky talking.

Dick isn't such a bad fellow when he's not fighting booze.

Or maybe he'll go away.

He hasn't much to keep him here." "Say, I could get a job offered to him out in San Simon," said Applegate, brightening.
His eye rested on the clock over the long mirror.

He stepped over to the show case, clipped the end from a cigar and obtained a light from a shapely bronze lady with a torch.