Tulsey's ultimate money problem was that he couldn't hardly care about it. That being said, he couldn't care about any of the problems regarding a fiat lack-of-it, and more than anything, he maintained the having of money. It wasn't any different than the accumulation of hairs on each of his large toes. There was plenty, under the socks, on his toes.
She wanted to kiss across the night all the way into the open of day. She didn't care about proctor, or any of that obscene scurvish. In fact, proctor could merely just kiss-off. There wasn't anything about the outside that had reason enough to call her out through those thin, though very insulated walls. Not even proctor, out there some where, wherever he was, waving bills and clams around with that hideously jowl-toothed snarl of a smile. He could kiss-off, indeed.
Copyrat/Siamese-wrong/Gather me electric, to carry that song