Court Doctor: [repeatedly] Can you hear me? Can you see me?
Prisoner: Yes, sir.
Court Doctor: OK for work.
Court Doctor: [arriving at Tyrone's place in the line] Can you hear me? Can you see me?
Tyrone: [nods, whispering] Yes, sir, yes, sir.
Prison Guard: [hits Tyrone in the face] Say "sir!" God damn New York dope fiend niggers. Learn some manners!
Court Doctor: Can you hear me? Can you see me?
Tyrone: [insulted] Yes, sir.
Court Doctor: OK for work.
[moving to Harry]
Court Doctor: Can you hear me? Can you see me?
Prison Guard: Says he's got something wrong with his arm.
[the doctor grabs Harry's arm and turns over the wound, causing him to scream in pain]
Court Doctor: I don't think you'll be puttin' any more dope in that arm.
Prison Guard: Smells worse than he do.
Court Doctor: Better get him over to the hospital. I don't expect him to live out the week.