The Girls In The High-Heeled Shoes - Plot & Excerpts
“Howdy, Mr. Brass,” he said. “Gates is my name, Casper W. Gates. I’ve come right up here to see you without hardly pausing to unpack my bags or nothing because my little Filly’s missing, and these here New York policemen that I spoke to don’t seem to give a good goddamn.” Brass shook the hand gingerly. “Your little filly?” “My Phillippa. Cute as a button and smart as a whip. The sweetest little woman this side of the Rockies. I exclude the other side of the Rockies ’cause I ain’t never been there.” He smiled a slight reminiscent smile. “That’s kind of our private joke.” Brass gave me an inquiring glare. “We know her as Mary,” I explained. “Ah!” Brass said. He turned back to his guest. “Do continue, Mr. Gates.” Gloria got up and moved into the corner behind Gates so she could take a few unobtrusive notes. “I ain’t seen her since the day after the wedding,” Gates said. “We spent the night at her place and was fixin’ to go on our honeymoon when I had to leave for a few days.
What do You think about The Girls In The High-Heeled Shoes?
