human
Oh, steward, I was careful of that dollar and a half. Don't you see?--I was a prisoner sawing my way out with a tiny steel saw. And I sawed out! His voice rose in a shrill cackle of triumph.
gpt
Steward, I sawed out!
human
Sir, I salute you.
gpt
And I thank you, sir--you understand,
human
I should have had one hundred and fifty-six dollars when I left the poor- farm, the ancient one continued.
gpt
But there were the two weeks I lost, with influenza, and the one week from a confounded pleurisy, so that I emerged from that place of the living dead with but one hundred and fifty- one dollars and fifty cents.
human
I see, sir, Daughtry interrupted with honest admiration.
gpt
The tiny saw had become a crowbar, and with it you were going back to break into life again.
human
Steward, I salute you. You understand. And you have said it well. I was going back to break into the house of life. It was a crowbar, that pitiful sum of money accumulated by two years of crucifixion. Think of it! A sum that in the days ere the silver spoon had melted, I staked in careless moods of an instant on a turn of the cards. But as you say, a burglar, I came back to break into life, and I came to Boston. You have a fine turn for a figure of speech, steward, and I salute you.