A Weblog by One Humble Bookman on Topics of Interest to Discerning Readers, Including (Though Not Limited To) Science Fiction, Books, Random Thoughts, Fanciful Family Anecdotes, Publishing, Science Fiction, The Mating Habits of Extinct Waterfowl, The Secret Arts of Marketing, Other Books, Various Attempts at Humor, The Wonders of New Jersey, the Tedious Minutiae of a Boring Life, Science Fiction, No Accounting (For Taste), And Other Weighty Matters.
He kissed Claire. That is to say, technically the thing was a kiss. But it was not the kiss of other days.
'What's up?' asked Claire, hurt.
'Nothing's up.'
'Yes, there is something up.'
'No, there isn't anything up.'
'Yes, there is.'
No, there ain't.'
'Well, then,' said Claire, 'what's up?'
These intellectual exchanges seemed to have the effect of cementing Mr Todhunter's gloom.
- P.G. Wodehouse, Sam the Sudden, pp.216-17
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