So, Mr. Nick,' murmured the valet, applying shaving soap to his employer's face with an ivory-handled brush, 'are you writing a book?'Damn him, thought Lerner. He knows I detest conversation with a razor at my throat.'My memoirs,' he muttered. 'A few jottings only. Waiting to die is such a bore, I write to pass the time.' ("The Overseer")
-Albert E. Cowdrey
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