"Especially when a girl is deep in thought." Arthur didn't argue; instead, he agreed with her.
"How did you know I have something on my mind?" Clara took a sip from the oversized beer mug she was holding: "Phew... do you have something on your mind too?"
Arthur stared at his empty glass and shook his head slightly: "Whether I have something on my mind doesn't matter anymore; my life is already screwed. Why make things difficult for myself in my final moments?"
"Huh?" Clara scrutinized the young handsome guy in front of her: "Do you have some kind of illness?"
Arthur chuckled self-deprecatingly: "I have the most incurable disease in the world."
Upon hearing this, Clara suddenly stood up in fear: "Did you catch smallpox or cholera?"
Arthur waved his hand: "Ma'am, don't be afraid, I only have the illness of being poor, and it's not contagious."
