Unsolicited Writings

Puttie, the perfumery salesman, had returned from hisfruitless quest for the nunnery.
If you couldnt see methrough the wall, how could I see you?
Noone can ever tell what hes thinking about.
Not in the hope of encounterin your friend the Buzzard, replied Vance.
Some days, when Im feeling in tune, I could tell youhow old you are and how many
children you have. But I really dont think heshould quit, do you? Noone can ever
tell what hes thinking about. And Im sure youd be entirelyjustified, too.
Delphaknows all about the hands, and the stars, and lucky numbers. He said youwere a
sort of detective and got credit for all the hard work the poorpolicemen do. Vance
was occupied with lighting another Regie, and as we turned the bendof the road I
looked back. His glance roved about the room again as he puffed lazily at
hiscigarette. And they cant arrest a policeman, either, canthey?
Dont you like a lotof people in one place?
But Im not angry withyou, for I dont even know you.
But I happen to know where itis: its quite a distance down the other way.
His sincerity dissipated any remaining doubt.
I preceded him to the roadway, and started slowly back toward the car.
Her eyes beamed gratefully, and she did not protest further. I trust the chef has
lost none of his cunning since lastI was here.
But I noticed she edged away from him a bit.
Weve gone into that sophistry before, snapped Markham.