In anticipation of her lover’s late-night call, Lucie slowly unbuttoned her bodice.

Good times. Bad times. You know I’ve had my share.

I’d just sat down to my morning pipe when there was a rap on my door, which, by sound alone, led me to believe it was a 5-foot-tall French chimney sweep with the gout.

It was one helluva time.

Marley was as dead as a doornail.