unearths some literary gems.
***
Mr. White retired behind his formidable eyebrows and sulked there.
***
"Life, as somebody has remarked, is like a pack of cards. I have forgotten the precise argument; but the aphorism, I think, is sound."
***
"I am fascinated by your monocle, Mr. Holderness," she said. "What would you do if it were broken?"
The eye that gripped the monocle relaxed; the glass wafer fell crashing to the deck. Ford Holderness kicked the broken pieces into the water. From his waistcoat pocket he brought up a second patch of crystal and stuck it firmly in his eye. No smile accompanied the transaction.
"I carry spares, Miss Oliver," he bowed. "Your question is such a popular one, when I am out of England, that I never venture out without a pocketful."
[The more I study that scene, the more I find to enjoy. The basic premise is wonderful, of course, and then there's the "observer effect" implied by the fact that what makes his monocles break is, in effect, people asking about his monocles breaking. I love the precursing of Schroeder's closet full of spare Beethoven busts; and I'm also impressed at how the author avoids saying "monocle" too often by resorting to the phrases "glass wafer" and "patch of crystal."]
***
"Marbles!" said Blackwood profanely.
***
Here again was the big black car...strolling along with its hands in its pockets, having no difficulty at all in keeping just the right distance in the rear.
***
He hoped that he would never see another adjectival tree. The poet who could sing of trees was full of bats and mice and fleas.
***
Her words were now tumbling out and piling up on top of one another like the letters of a typewriter.
***
