KEN. I'll get along.

BISHOP. How do you propose to live?

KEN. By sleeping on park benches, eating in our bread lines.--Or
I'll tell the government I'm destitute--or get a relief job.--I
won't go on the way I've been doing.--Laura comes and brings food;
Tippy leaves cigarettes around; you send me checks. I'm sick of
having to take from you all!--If I've got to live by charity, I
want to be free to hate charity. That's a beggar's right.

BISHOP. It gives us pleasure to help you.

KEN. But can't you see what you're doing to my self-respect?

BISHOP. I don't want to hurt your self-respect.

KEN. Then leave me alone.

[_Pause._]

BISHOP. [_Clearing his throat._] Have you been to see Stanley
Prescott?

KEN. Yes.

BISHOP. Why hasn't he done something for you?

KEN. I suppose he can't.