“SAID THE ELEGANT MAN, “HAS BEEN overdone. By now it’s thoroughly boring.” Dortmunder didn’t say anything. His business was theft, of art or whatever else had value, and he’d never supposed it was meant to be exciting. Nor, while tiptoeing around darkened halls in guarded buildings with his pockets full of stolen goods, had he ever found boredom much of a problem. The elegant man sighed. “What do people of your sort drink?” he asked. “Bourbon,” Dortmunder said. “Water. Coca-Cola. Orange juice. B...eer.” “Bourbon,” the elegant man told one of the two plug-uglies who’d brought Dortmunder here. “And sherry for me.” “Coffee,” Dortmunder went on. “Sometimes Gallo Burgundy. Vodka. Seven-Up. Milk.” “How do you prefer your bourbon?” the elegant man asked. “With ice and water. People of my sort also drink Hi-C, Scotch, lemonade, Nyquil—” “Do you drink Perrier?”“No,” said Dortmunder.“Ah,” said the elegant man, closing the subject with his preconceptions intact.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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