George: I, uh, should have a poem very soon now.
Wyck: Are you okay, George?
George: [taking a tissue from his briefcase] No, no, not really. Ever since Susan passed on, I have good days and bad. [turns to the woman to his left and places the suitcase down] Some days, I'm haunted by one word why. Why Susan? Why wasn't it me licking those invitations? Why am I still here? Well, I gotta run. [gets up, leaves]