The Lady in the Lake (Philip Marlowe, #4)

by Raymond Chandler

The third man dropped the grin off his face and looked as if he had never grinned in his life.

I’ve got a hangover like seven Swedes.

County don’t allow me no money for emergency liquor, so I just have to seize a little here and there.

The whole place was full to overflowing with males in leisure jackets and liquor breaths and females in high-pitched laughs, oxblood fingernails and dirty knuckles.

A quiet girl, with a face that kept its secrets.

I peeled off my coat and tie and sat down at the desk and got the office bottle out of the deep drawer and bought myself a drink.

Grayson put his bony hand out and I shook it. It felt like shaking hands with a towel rack.

There was nothing in her eyes at all. They were like drawn curtains.