“Jack poured one for me and another big one for himself.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘I missed a lot, boxing.’
‘You made plenty of money.’
‘Sure, that’s what I’m after. You know I miss a lot, Jerry.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well,’ he says, ‘like about the wife. And being away from home so much. It don’t do my girls any good. “Who’s your old man?” some of those society kids’ll say to them. “My old man’s Jack Brennan.” That don’t do them any good.’
‘Hell,” I said, ‘all that makes a difference is if they got dough.’
‘Well,’ says Jack, ‘I got the dough for them all right.’
He poured out another drink. The bottle was about empty.
—from “Fifty Grand” by Ernest Hemingway
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