That night Marylou took everything in the books; she took tea, goofballs, benny, liquor, and even asked Old Bull for a shot of M, which of course he didn’t give her; he did give her a martini.

Bailey still sat, doubled over his book […] A finger forerunning his eyes along the page.

As the dawn was breaking the Sambhur belled / Once, twice and again!

One look at that lifeguard's prong gave me a throbber like a baseball bat — not quite that big, of course, but at least that hard!