Roland called, looking across the street at what a large false-fronted sign proclaimed to be the Good Beds Hotel. Hello, the town! No answer but the bells, the tunesome insects, and that odd wooden clunking.

When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould; And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, It's pretty, but is it Art?

to mark the points in a game of billiards or a card game

Moss: Oh, he's long gone, although Roy's got a mandate with him. Roy: It is not a mandate. I am not a man-woman. We are not married. I am not your wife!