Explore "The Definite Object" by Jeffery Farnol on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Spike leaned back among his cushions and, glancing away across close-cropped lawns and shady walks, sighed luxuriously.
"Say, Ann," he remarked. "Gee whiz, Trapesy, there sure ain't no flies on this place of old Geoff's!"