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Updated: August 14, 2024
Heavier than a pistol. Clicky and thumpy, like this lock if you pull it and let go." Dick's face beamed with satisfaction. "Don't touch it I know," he said. "I suppose you'll be wanting half the proceeds, and your name as part author." "What on earth d'you mean, Dick?" "Collaboration. You've completed the plot."
Poor Phil was fourteen when he was drowned. Under the ice on the Serpentine. He had just been licking me for boning a strap of his skate. I was doing the best way I could without it ... to get mine on, you see ... when I heard a stop in the grinding noise what goes on all day, you know and a sort of clicky slooshing, and I looked up, and there were a hundred people under the ice, all at once.
It was sweet to lie in the Master's study, one white forepaw or the great shapely head laid lovingly on the man's hiking boot; and with an occasional pat or a friendly word from his deity, as the latter pounded away on a clicky typewriter whose jarring noise Lad had long ago taught himself to tolerate.
He lit up gratefully, waving out the match and hesitating for a spot to dispose of it. She reached across the table, palm up. "Give me." He caught her hand. "Lilly!" She jerked back with a little clicky catch of breath. "Don't." "Lilly, you're maddening! Lilly, can't you see what I haven't the words to tell you? For years since that night at the Waldorf I I have been living for this moment.
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