Author: Nichole

“The police think I shot Thursby,” he said.

“Who is he?” she asked, separating a cigarette-paper from the packet, sifting tobacco into it.

“Who do you think I shot?” he asked.

When she ignored that question he said: “Thurby’s the guy Miles was suppose to be tailing for the Wonderly girl.”

Her thin fingers finished shaping the cigarette. She licked it, smoothed it, twisted its ends, and placed it between Spade’s lips. He said, “Thanks, honey,” put an arm around her slim waist, and rested his cheek wearily against her hip, shutting his eyes.

It wont balance. If you want it to tote and ride on a balance, we will have—”

“Pick up. Goddamn you, pick up.”
“I’m telling you it wont tote and it wont ride on the balance unless–”
“Pick up! Pick up, goddamn your thick nosed soul to hell, pick up!”
It wont balance. If they want it to tote and ride on a balance they will have

(96)

“MRS DALLOWAY SAID she would buy the flowers for herself.”(3)

“There were flowers: delphiniums, sweet peas, bunches of lilac; and carnations, masses of carnations. There were roses; there were irises. Ah yes– so she breathed in the earthy garden smell as she stood talking to Miss Pym…”(12)