 I'm leaving you. I'm tired of this life, earning nothing a week, always counting the money other men have made for their women. I'm leaving you, Mitchell. Phyllis! Come now, honey, and I knew every step of the way. Maybe I'd been mapping this out unconsciously for years. But now I was in the driver's seat. Phyllis, darling, dear, why? I know we don't earn much, but... Much? Eighty dollars a week together?