Wednesday, 30 January 2013


‘I was a deputy marshal there, in Abilene years ago, before you were born. What d’ye think of that? And it was a dam’ sight quieter,’ he went on, transferring his attention to the two talkers, ‘than some drawing rooms I could mention. Can’t even conduct a private conversation without some jack-in-office stopping your ears with drivel.’ He peered malevolently. ‘Fisher and young Churchill, eh? Oh, God help the nation.’

Mr American, pp.184-5, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.

Tags: , , .

No comments: