"Judging from the awkward way the pockets were crumpled in the act of refolding the trousers, I have further reason to believe that the watcher is a woman."
"Impossible!"
"Nothing is impossible in this best of impossible worlds."
"It's a low-down shame, Mr. Pryor. But, after all, it can't hurt you. 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, etc.' You know the saying."
"My dear boy, being a detective you can't begin to realize that the knowledge that you are being carefully watched gives you a very jumpy feeling—especially when you know you're guilty."
"In heaven's name, guilty of what?"
"Of doing a good job in your own line; in my case, tracking down criminals."
"Surely you don't mean to imply that Headquarters would permit influences—"
"I imply nothing. I give you the benefit of the facts. But if you think it's a pleasure to surmise that your every movement has an unseen spectator—you don't know who, but you fear it's a young and beautiful woman—"
The sudden ring-a-ling of the telephone bell cut across the room.