The public […] said that Miss Bogardus was a suffragist because she had never caught a man; that she wanted something, but it wasn't the vote.

And the front doors were locked. Locked for what? Burglary? Ol' book-ghoul come to retrieve his pictures from E-boney?

My brother is king of the contradicks! You can't reason with them. It's like trying to talk to a magic 8 ball.

I'm horrified: Dag is burning holes in the roof of the car with the cherry of his cigarette.