Explore "Guns at Cyrano's" by Raymond Chandler on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The ramp of the Carondelet garage curved down into semi-darkness and chilled air. The dark bulks of stalled cars looked ominous against the whitewashed walls, and the single droplight in the small office had the relentless glitter of the death house.
A big Negro in stained overalls came out rubbing his eyes, then his face split in an enormous grin.