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September 11 - December 4, 2019
Everyday took an age to go by, which was odd, because days plural went past like a stampede.
BECAUSE OF DRAMA, MISS FLITWORTH. THE KIND OF DEATH WHO POSES AGAINST THE SKYLINE AND GETS LIT UP BY LIGHTNING FLASHES, said Bill Door, disapprovingly, DOESN’T TURN UP AT FIVE-AND-TWENTY PAST ELEVEN IF HE CAN POSSIBLY TURN UP AT MIDNIGHT.
“It must be very odd, knowing . . . the kind of things you know . . .” DO NOT ASK ME. “That’s not fair, you know. If we knew when we were going to die, people would lead better lives.” IF PEOPLE KNEW WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO DIE, I THINK THEY PROBABLY WOULDN’T LIVE AT ALL. “Oh, very gnomic. And what do you know about it, Bill Door?” EVERYTHING.
WHAT DO YOU RECOMMEND? Druto slipped smoothly into gear. “Roses are always very well received,” he said. “Or orchids. Many gentlemen these days tell me that ladies find a single specimen orchid more acceptable than a bunch of roses—” GIVE ME LOTS. “Would that be orchids or roses?” BOTH. Druto’s fingers twined sinuously, like eels in grease. “And I wonder if I could interest you in these marvelous sprays of Nervousa Gloriosa—” LOTS OF THEM. “And if Sir’s budget would stretch, may I suggest a single specimen of the extremely rare—” YES. “And possibly—” YES. EVERYTHING. WITH A RIBBON.
ARE ANY OF THESE FRIENDLY? he said. “Sir, I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that we have never based our purchasing policy on the amiability of the stones in question,” said the merchant. He was uncomfortably aware that things were wrong, and that somewhere in the back of his mind he knew what was wrong with them, and that somehow his mind was not letting him make that final link. And it was getting on his nerves. WHERE IS THE BIGGEST DIAMOND IN THE WORLD? “The biggest? That’s easy. It’s the Tear of Offler, it’s in the innermost sanctuary of the Lost Jewelled Temple of Doom of
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your next question, I personally would go to bed with it.”
