Royal: I'm dying, baby. I'm sick as a dog. I'll be dead in six weeks. I'm dying.
Ethel: What are you talking about? What happened? Oh, my God. I'm sorry. I didn't know. What'd they say? What's the prognosis?
Royal: Take it easy, Ethel. Hold on. Hold on.
Ethel: Where's the doctor? Let's get -
Royal: Wait a second. Listen. I'm not dying. But I need some time. A month. Maybe two. I want us to -
Ethel: What's wrong with you?
Royal: Ethel.
Ethel: Go away!
Royal: Baby. I am dying.
Ethel: Are you or aren't you?
Royal: Dying? Yes.
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