The Moment A Man Sets

They Write Them Long Because They Can't Write Them Short.

It Was About Eleven O'clock In The Morning, Mid October, With The Sun Not Shining And A Look Of Hard Wet Rain In The Clearness Of The Foothills. I Was Wearing My Powder-blue Suit, With Dark Blue Shirt, Tie And Display Handkerchief, Black Brogues, Black Wool Socks With Dark Little Clocks On Them. I Was Neat, Clean, Shaved And Sober, And I Didn't Care Who Knew It. I Was Everything The Well-dressed Private Detective Ought To Be. I Was Calling On Four Million Dollars.

A Real Gimlet Is Half Gin And Half Rose's Lime Juice And Nothing Else.

All Reading For Pleasure Is Entertainment.

Dames Lie About Anything - Just For Practice.